Leave
by charmed310
Summary: Six years after Hogwarts, Harry and Draco meet in an unexpected setting. Much has changed to and for the schoolboy rivals.
1. Meetings

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.**

March 2003

Harry Potter stepped into the golden lift at the Ministry of Magic; he was on his way to the second floor to report for his first day of work in the Auror Office. His best friend, Ron Weasley, was running slightly late and had told Harry to go on without him. So there he stood, alone in the lift, feeling very much as nervous as he had on his first day of school at Hogwarts eleven years ago. But Ron had been with him then and on their first day of Auror Training. Harry leaned against the back of the lift, his head bowed, deep in thought.

Ron and their other best friend, Hermione Granger, had been there for him so often; he was rather unused to doing things without them. They had been there for him when he had faced Voldemort in their first, second, fourth and fifth years at school, and finally in their seventh year when he had lost his innocence and killed Voldemort at Godric's Hollow. His friends had also been there for him during totally Voldemort-unrelated moments such as his first kiss, first drunken episode and subsequent others. They had even been there for him when he'd come to the conclusion that he was gay after having several botched relationships with girls when it really was him. He and Ron had shared a flat since they began their Auror training four years earlier, and they'd been hired together at the Auror Headquarters at the Ministry of Magic. Even though their lives hadn't been a fairytale, at least they'd had each other's friendship through it all, and Harry would always be eternally grateful to both him and Hermione.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket Sneakoscope, the one Ron had given him for his thirteenth birthday. He carried it around in his robes for security; he always felt warmth from within when he held it because it reminded him of the first time he could remember being truly happy that it was his birthday. He turned the little ball around in his hand and hoped that Ron would arrive soon.

Draco Malfoy was running towards the lifts at the end of the hall from his potions lab on the third floor of the Ministry of Magic. Arthur Weasley had just sent him an emergency memo from the floor below; some very foolish teenage wizards in Wales had been seen floating around Cardiff due to the effects of Diet Coke. They had apparently taken the slogan to heart and had 'lit it up'. The head of the potions sector in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes had delegated the task of brewing emergency potions to Draco, and he'd been very excited when he'd gotten the job; he flourished under pressure.

Most unfortunately, however, Draco and his assistant had been working on one of his own recipes, and at the moment he received the memo, his assistant had added the wrong ingredient and showered them both with blue potion. He'd taken off for the lifts and tried to mutter a Scouring Charm as he ran, but it did very little; complicated potions often left immovable stains, and Draco had a wardrobe full of robes to prove it. He reached the lifts and pushed the button to call one down from the seventh floor; he looked down at his appearance and groaned out loud. He would be speckled blue for the day.

Impatiently, he shifted from foot to foot as the lift descended slowly. Finally, the little number '3' lit up and the golden grilles parted. He placed one foot into the lift and looked up, then did a double take and was surprised he didn't hear his jaw hit the floor. Standing in front of him, tall, broad shouldered and devastatingly handsome, was Harry Potter.

Grey eyes flashed as they met green and it took Harry's breath away. He thought he might have been dreaming; before him stood his childhood nemesis, Draco Malfoy. He was splattered from head to foot in blue and looked very ruffled and as shocked to see Harry as Harry was to see him, but there was no mistaking the aristocratic features and otherwise unflawed appearance that was Malfoy. It had been nearly six years since they'd last seen each other, and Malfoy had certainly grown up into one of the most gorgeous wizards Harry had ever laid eyes upon. He stepped into the lift and pushed the number '2'.

"Been a long time, hasn't it, Potter?" he said.

Harry managed to find his breath again to reply.

"Yes, Malfoy, it most certainly has."

"So, what are you in for?" Malfoy asked. He had also grown out of his nasty sneer and the drawl he spoke with; he sounded so normal and un-Malfoy.

"My first day of work; I'm an Auror," Harry said, feeling himself blush slightly. "You?"

"Congratulations, Potter. I'm in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes actually; I work as an emergency potion brewer. My assignment today is to brew an antidote for Diet Coke that makes the drinker fly. I'm on my way to Arthur Weasley's office to get the list of ingredients they used in the beverage."

_He's going where?!_ Harry was floored. Malfoy was almost unrecognisable as the one he once knew six years before; it was almost disconcerting, yet strangely intriguing.

"Sounds exciting," Harry said with a smile. He looked into Malfoy's grey eyes and felt oddly faint. The lift grilles opened on the second floor and they stepped out.

"Not nearly as exciting as your job's going to be," Malfoy said to him. He held out his hand to Harry.

"I'll see you around, Potter." He gave Harry a dazzling smile as he turned and walked away. Dazed and very confused, Harry opened the door to the Auror Headquarters.


	2. Leave Consider The Possibility

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.**

Muffin... To our punks, Zak and Nate, may they remain that way forever...

Harry sat on his bed, contemplating his first day of work. It had just been some tiresome paperwork and getting used to the place, really, but he was still shaken from his encounter with Malfoy in the lift. There was something about seeing him again that had niggled his memory, but he couldn't quite place what.

"Hey, look what I found!" Ron exclaimed from the living room.

Harry got up and poked his head around the doorframe to see what Ron was on about.

His roommate was sitting on the carpet, a photo album open in front of him, laughing at the pictures inside. Harry sat next to him and peered into the album; he dissolved into laughter to see a photograph of him, Ron and their friend, Zak Sacco, each playing an "air" musical instrument. Ron was on drums, Harry and Zak were on guitar, and they were singing along to "The Final Countdown" by Europe. 

Harry was glad that the photographs could only depict their actions; he was certain their singing had been awful.

Zak Sacco was an American wizard who had joined the British faction of Aurors at the same time as Ron and Harry had. Zak was a Muggle-born and the only wizard in his family; he had learnt of his magical powers through his love of music.

Being the youngest of three boys meant that he was left out of many things his older brothers did. On the days that they locked him out of their room and played their music, Zak would sit in his own room and concentrate hard on hearing the music from the other side of the wall.

Eventually, he found he was able to hear the music as loudly and clearly as if it was in the same room. Only, so did the rest of the house.

Their mother had forcefully reprimanded his brothers for playing their music too loudly in the house, but they swore to her that they hadn't turned up the volume. She'd never believed them, of course, and they were punished rather unfairly, but there was no explanation for how the music had gotten so loud of its own accord.

Then, three weeks after Zak's eleventh birthday, the family got their answer.

"Haven't heard from our boy Sacco recently; I hope he's alright. He said he was going on some undercover operation," Harry said as they flipped through more pages.

"I'm sure he's fine. Oh, my God! It's that girl, Jennifer O'Malley! Remember? You were _obsessed_!" Ron said, and he pointed at a photograph of Harry with his arm around a girl with white-blond hair and grey eyes. Harry felt a jolt of recognition. He suddenly understood. Clapping his hands over his eyes, Harry groaned and fell back onto the carpet.

"Mate, you alright?" Ron asked from above him.

Harry uncovered his eyes and laughed helplessly.

When the British Auror Academy accepted Zak Sacco as part of their class, they accepted three other students from the United States. Jennifer O'Malley had been one of them. From the first day, she'd been smitten with Harry.

"There's something about a man in uniform who also has an accent," she used to say.

From the moment Harry glimpsed Jennifer, her fair colouring gave him a rather unsettled, but not unpleasant, feeling, as though she was someone he knew; but he couldn't place the feeling. All he could think of was how attractive she appeared to him and didn't bother to consider why.

His relationship with Ginny Weasley had ended disastrously, and he was quite ready to place his interests in another. Harry had succumbed to the obsessive trait his personality brought forth, and the object was Jennifer.

"Ron, look at that picture of her again; does she remind you of anyone? Someone we haven't seen in years that I had the fortune of running into in the lifts today," Harry said.

Ron looked closely at the picture.

"You mean Malfoy?" He shot Harry an exasperated look. "You've been worrying about him all day! Get over it."

"I've just realised why," Harry said. Ron looked at the picture again and then back at Harry.

"Harry, what the hell are you on about?"

"I'm so stupid; the reason I was so obsessed with Jennifer is because she reminded me of Malfoy!"

Ron still looked blank.

"But why would you be so besotted with her if she reminded you of someone you hated? And furthermore, wasn't she the one that planted the seed of doubt in your own sexual preference?"

It had taken the better part of their first year at school to figure this out.

Harry and Jennifer had stepped around each other for weeks, each feeling the other out. Harry was very intrigued by her and wanted to know more, his obsession leading him to believe that he wanted to be with her. He'd approached her one day in the school hallways and asked her out on a date so he could be with her alone. Their date had culminated in a kiss, and to Harry's dismay, she'd pulled away gently from him, cocked her head to one side and said:

"Harry, have you ever considered the possibility that you might be gay?" 

He'd stared, dumbstruck, as she nodded.

On the walk back home, he'd considered every kiss he'd had. Ginny had been fun; but he couldn't ever remember actually wanting more. His kisses with Cho had been much the same. Then he thought of Ron and Hermione's descriptions of their respective kissing, etc. episodes, and they always involved one key thing that Harry was yet to experience with a girl: desire.

"Yes," Harry replied hotly, still faintly embarrassed. "But I didn't realise it was Malfoy she made me think of! It was like someone I'd known for a long time, but I couldn't quite put a finger on it, so to speak. But there wasn't anything negative about it… and," Harry blushed, "when I saw him today, he kind of made me feel, I dunno… aroused."

Ron covered his ears.

"Are you trying to tell me, your best friend ever, that you, Harry James Potter, are possibly interested in Draco Malfoy?" he said, wincing.

Harry could feel himself growing very hot.

"I think so." He looked up at Ron as his words came out in a very small voice.

"No, Harry."


	3. Discovery

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination. **

"Harry!"

Harry's head snapped up in response.

Ron was standing in front of him with his hands on his hips, looking very annoyed. "What the bloody hell's gotten into you?"

"Sorry, just got a lot on my mind. What's up?"

"I'm hungry. Let's go get some lunch."

Harry rolled his eyes and got up from his desk. He'd sat down an hour ago to start on some of his paperwork, but his thoughts had strayed to Draco Malfoy. In all his life, he'd never imagined he'd be happy to know that he and Malfoy would be in the same place at the same time. Far less that it would be in his apartment and that he'd be cooking dinner for them both.

It had taken nearly a month of them running into each other all over the place, from work to Diagon Alley, even once in a Muggle grocery with Ron (after Hermione had bullied them into buying fruit and vegetables and other 'healthy' food), for Harry to realise that his attraction to Malfoy wasn't going to go away. Every time he'd spotted Malfoy, his feelings of intrigue had increased, his stomach seemed to disappear and his heart started to hammer in his chest.

They always seemed to spot each other at the same time, as though they'd been looking for each other. When Malfoy had approached to say hello, Harry found he could hardly speak. He'd gone straight to Hermione after the third incident. She was all-knowing and would tell him what to do.

"Hermione, what on earth could make me lose it so very easily when I see Malfoy?" he'd demanded one Saturday afternoon.

He was lying on her bed while she put away her laundry.

"You want to get in his trousers," she'd responded as she folded, not looking up from what she was doing.

"I most certainly do not!" he'd said indignantly. _Oh, God. She could be right!_

"Harry, you're gay, he's gay, you're hot and he's hot. Just get over yourself and ask him out for dinner or something."

"How d'you know he's gay?!" Harry asked her incredulously.

She'd grinned almost nastily and sat down next to him.

"Back at school in sixth year, I was doing the usual – looking through books in the Restricted Section of the library – when I heard some funny noises coming from one of the bookshelves, so of course I went to have a look. Well, upon turning the corner, who should I see but Draco Malfoy, pressed against a bookcase, being thoroughly kissed by Jonathan Moon."

Harry clapped his hands over his mouth.

"You're joking!" he said through his fingers. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Well, we were all a little bit preoccupied that year, weren't we? Besides, I don't think it's a good idea to go mouthing off on anyone's private business, even if it was Malfoy. Karma and all that, you know."

"I suppose it wouldn't have made a difference either way," Harry relented, feeling joy rise up inside him. "So, what are the odds he fancies me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I don't know, Harry. You'll have to find that out for yourself."

And so he had. Plucking up all the Gryffindor courage he possessed, he had gone to the third level corridor outside Malfoy's potions lab, and loitered by the water fountain, hoping he would emerge soon so Harry could ask him out before he lost his nerve.

"Hello, Harry, what's up?" Malfoy said, smiling brightly as he stepped out of his lab to encounter a decidedly nervous-looking Harry.

Harry took a deep breath. He was not going to mess this up by sounding like a teenager. It was just dinner after all.

"Hi, Draco. I just wanted to ask you if you'd like to have dinner with me on Friday night," Harry said with a smile, crossing his fingers inside his robe pockets.

Draco's cheeks pinked but he replied quite steadily. "Yes, I'd like that very much, thank you."

Harry uncrossed his fingers and grinned, feeling slightly weak-kneed.

"Okay, great. I'll see you later then." He turned and walked back towards the lifts. Halfway there, Draco stopped him.

"You forgot to tell me where we'll be eating," he said.

Harry felt warm and knew he was turning pink.

"I'm sorry, hang on, I'll write it down for you," he felt around his person looking for a piece of parchment and a quill.

Draco was suddenly very aware of where Harry's hands were moving – over his chest, his hips and his backside – and wished he could help Harry search too, only they'd forget they were even searching for anything as mundane as parchment if Draco had his way.

Harry pulled out a scrap of parchment from his back pocket.

"Can I borrow your quill?"

Draco took a second to register what he'd said and then thrust his quill at Harry. Their hands brushed slightly, and Draco felt a _zing_ travel up his arm and wondered if Harry had felt it too; but his head was bent writing so Draco couldn't tell. Harry handed him the parchment and the quill, taking care to brush Draco's hand again, eager to feel his soft skin under his fingers once more.

"Thanks. I'll see you around then?" Draco said. Harry nodded and started off again in the direction of the lifts. He read the address for Harry's apartment scrawled untidily on the parchment.

_What on earth am I going to wear?_ Draco thought.

Harry stood in front of his mirror, critiquing his appearance, while Ron lay sprawled out on Harry's bed among the countless articles of clothing he'd strewn everywhere while trying to find something spectacular.

"Mum always sent you green things to bring out your eyes or some rubbish. Why don't you just wear green?" Ron suggested, picking through Harry's clothes.

"Well, I suppose, but I always wear green. Where is your girlfriend when I need her?" Harry said, pulling off a navy blue shirt and picking out a dark green one from the fray on his bed.

"She is currently lying on her bed, wearing something very sexy, and waiting for me to arrive with a bottle of champagne and have my way with her, though I think there's dinner involved as well, so she could be cooking." Ron said.

Harry shuddered.

"That visual was unnecessary, mate. But speaking of dinner, could you go check the chicken and potatoes?"

Ron nodded and pushed himself off the bed and went to their kitchen.

Harry went into his bathroom and basted his underarms with deodorant, followed by a liberal spray with _Steel Mod_. He went back into the bedroom and slipped the green shirt back on, buttoned it up and went to join Ron in the kitchen, where he was cutting the chicken into parts with his wand.

"Thanks, Ron. I still have no idea how I'm actually going to eat any of this."

Ron grinned and pulled a bottle of Pinot Grigio from the fridge and handed it to Harry.

"You're going to drink some of this and you're going to be fine." Ron turned off the oven and put the chicken back in to keep it warm. "Now I've got to go. I'll see you sometime tomorrow." He squeezed Harry's shoulder.

"Thanks for your help; I owe you one," Harry said. "Kiss Hermione for me."

Ron winked. "You owe me plenty, but I've lost count so don't worry about it."

Harry smiled and began levitating wine glasses out of the cupboard.

"And, Harry, you look great." Ron grinned and Disapparated with a loud crack.

Harry shook his head and poured himself a glass of wine. He really adored his best friend. He gulped the wine down quickly and went back into his bedroom to brush his hair.

"Well, thanks again for dinner, Harry. Who knew one person could benefit so much from half a life as a Muggle? And it feels like forever since I've had a home-cooked meal," Draco said.

Harry laughed and shrugged.

"It was my pleasure. To be honest, I really enjoy cooking which is kind of odd, considering how awful I was at Potions," he said, running a hand through his hair.

_Such gorgeous dark hair,_ Draco thought, fighting the urge to reach out and touch it himself. Draco smiled at Harry.

"I, for one, support the argument that potions are far more complicated than they should be; and you can't possibly be that bad if you made it through Auror School."

Harry blushed and turned his emerald eyes downward.

_That's right, Draco, just embarrass him and the kiss you want so very badly will just throw itself up from nowhere. Good job!_

"Thanks," Harry mumbled. He looked back up at Draco sheepishly, licking his lips. His eyes had been particularly green that night; Draco imagined it was the effect of his green shirt. And, oh, how Draco wanted to lick Harry's lips too, in addition to other parts of his body…

Slapping himself mentally, he told himself to take it easy. He still wasn't sure how Harry felt about him. Their conversation through dinner had been very easy and amicable, but Draco couldn't tell if Harry _really_ liked him. He had invited him for dinner, yes, and on a night that Ron wasn't around, but it could have just been coincidental and Harry was just being friendly.

Harry drained his glass of wine and set the glass down, feeling awkward. Their date had gone well. The food was good and the conversation, from what Harry remembered of it, went smoothly for two people who'd hardly ever done much by way of conversation except throw nasty words and curses at each other. But Harry had been far more interested in studying Draco than talking about anything serious or work-related. He'd watched how his mouth moved when he talked and chewed and drank, watched how his lips glistened and how he wiped his mouth. Harry thought he may not wash the napkin Draco had used. He wanted Draco to stay so he could watch him move all night. When he'd answered the door and greeted Draco, and he'd walked past, Harry almost lost it when he'd smelled Draco's cologne: Carolina Herrera's _212_.

"Just give me a minute to clear up this stuff and then we can go have a seat in the living room," Harry said, getting up.

Draco stood up and began picking up plates.

"I'll help you," he said.

"It's okay. I've got it."

"I said, I'll help you." Draco winked at Harry and walked away.

_Well if you say so..._ Harry followed him with the empty chicken dish.

"I think we could use another drink, though," Draco said.

"You could be right," Harry replied.

When Harry had finished loading the dishwasher and taken another bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, he and Draco went to sit on the couch in the living room, and they started up another conversation.

As the night wore on and they got more comfortable with each other, the topics changed from Quidditch and their jobs to their families (in Harry's case, the Weasleys) and friends, and they moved closer to each other on the couch, allowing their limbs to brush against each other, but they were yet to make major contact. The signs were good, but Harry still wasn't sure about Draco's feelings.

At three thirty, Draco had looked at his watch in surprise. He was lying perpendicular to Harry on the couch, his socked feet underneath Harry's legs, while Harry had been lazily stroking his calves while they talked.

"Wow, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't realise how late it was. I should get going." He removed his feet from beneath Harry and bent down to retrieve his shoes.

Harry, who had been quite enjoying the sleepy, contented feeling, accompanied by their close proximity, was suddenly wide awake. He didn't want Draco to leave, and he especially didn't want him to leave without at least a goodnight kiss.

Draco stood up and picked up his jacket from the back of the sofa, but didn't put it on.

_Well, this is promising..._ Harry thought.

Harry moved to kneel on the couch and looked up at Draco, who fumbled with the jacket in his hands and looked right into his eyes.

Harry got up from the couch and moved around the back towards Draco. He saw him draw in a breath, and when he didn't let it out, but continued to look into Harry's eyes as he stepped closer still, Harry knew. He could feel the tingling between them already, and his eyes flicked to Draco's mouth.

He drew his tongue across his lower lip and took a final step. They were eye to eye and Draco still hadn't breathed out.

Harry raised his hand and stroked Draco's warm cheek very softly, watching as his eyelids fluttered closed and his breath came out in a rush. He leaned forward, chills running up and down his spine, and captured Draco's lips with his own.

Draco groaned quietly as Harry's mouth made contact; he trembled and felt his knees weaken. He grabbed at the back of the couch to steady himself as he kissed Harry back, grazing his lips with his tongue. Harry opened his mouth and Draco began to explore, laving the inside of Harry's mouth, running over his teeth. Harry took Draco's face in his hands and pulled him closer so they were pressed against each other. Electricity ran through both their bodies as time seemed to stand still. Draco felt goosebumps erupt on his arms underneath the fabric of his shirt.

Harry was lapping at his tongue with his own, sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body. he hadn't felt like this in a long time. Harry's fingers were lightly scratching the back of his head, buried in his hair, and he wondered vaguely if he'd ever be able to keep his hands off of Harry in the future. Images of pressing him against the back of the lifts at the Ministry and doing unmentionable things to him floated into Draco's mind, and he squirmed involuntarily, lust stirring in his groin.

_Oh, God… not now… not yet!_

He moaned into Harry's mouth and pulled away gently, taking a step back and a deep breath. It was all he could do not to bend Harry over the back of the sofa after slowly removing every article of his clothing and tasting every inch of exposed flesh.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

Draco looked at him and groaned inwardly. His lips looked so inviting, so full and moist from their kiss.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just… it's been a while. I don't want to mess this up…" Draco said quietly.

His last relationship had been over two years ago, and it had been all about the sex. He didn't want that for Harry and himself. He also wasn't certain whether it would even be a relationship, and furthermore, despite Harry's blatant aggression, he had the feeling from the way Harry spoke, that this was his first major encounter with another man. Draco wasn't about to put him off by demanding too much. If it worked out between him and Harry, he would wait for Harry to come to him.

He smiled at Harry and finally pulled on his jacket. Harry looked a little bit disappointed, but smiled back and led Draco to the door.

He hoped he hadn't done anything abnormal. He'd only ever been with a few men, very fleetingly, back in school, and he'd never gotten any complaints, but this was Draco Malfoy.

Draco stopped him at the door.

"Thanks again, Harry," he said.

"You're welcome," Harry replied.

"Why don't we do this again tomorrow? But this time, I'll take you out," Draco said.

Harry looked a little more cheerful at this suggestion.

"Okay, sounds good," he said.

Draco leaned across and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Meet me in the Leaky Cauldron at eight tomorrow night."

Draco kissed Harry again and Disapparated from the doorway.


	4. London

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.**

Harry picked up a handful of Floo powder and knelt in front of the fireplace; he threw the powder in and watched as it burst into green flame. He shouted Hermione's address and stuck his head into the flames.

"Hermione! Are you there?" Harry shouted from her kitchen fireplace. He craned his neck and called her name again.

Hermione appeared, dressed in one of Ron's old Chudley Cannons jerseys.

"Morning, Harry, would you like to come in?" she asked with a smile.

"Sure." He got to his feet and stepped into his fireplace and stepped out of hers. He kissed her on the cheek in greeting.

"Where's Ron?"

"Where do you think?" She rolled her eyes, inclining her head toward the bedroom door. "Have you got time for a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, please. I'm going to wake him up."

"Harry, I don't think…" Hermione began.

"Please, it's not like I haven't seen him starkers before," he said.

She laughed. "Not usually with a morning woody."

He turned to her in mock disappointment. "You're supposed to take care of these things _before_ I arrive, Hermione; what kind of girlfriend are you?"

She chuckled and turned the kettle on to boil. "Clearly a most unsatisfactory one, but don't blame me if he jumps you, okay?"

He chuckled and ventured into Hermione's bedroom, taking a flying leap onto the bed, shaking Ron out of slumber.

"Whassamatter?" Ron mumbled sleepily. His eyes opened wide when he registered that he was seeing Harry's face before him, and not Hermione's.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" he demanded.

"Good morning to you too, lover boy," Harry said. "I came to gloat."

Hermione pushed open the door with three steaming cups of coffee floating in front of her. She sent two to Ron and Harry and lay down next to Ron with her own.

"So tell us, did you shag like wild bunnies and burn holes in the carpet?" Hermione asked.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Not quite as exciting as that, but we did stay up until after three drinking wine and chatting; and he asked me out for another date…" he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Uh-huh… anything else?" Ron prompted, nudging Harry in the ribs.

"We kissed," he said casually. Then he bit his lip, a furious blush appearing on his face. "And it was the best kiss ever!"

Ron burst out laughing. "Mate, you are such a loser."

Hermione was grinning over the rim of her coffee cup. Harry rolled his eyes upward again.

"This coming from the one who crumpled into a heap of ecstasy the first time you kissed Hermione," he said dryly.

"That's different; she's my one true love," Ron said, smiling at his girlfriend. Hermione blushed, but looked quite pleased with herself.

"I'm very happy for you, Harry," Hermione said. "Any idea where he's taking you?"

"Nope, he just told me to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron at eight tonight. He said, 'Let's do this again tomorrow,' so I can only assume that means dinner," Harry said.

"I still can't believe you're dating Draco Malfoy, Harry," Ron said, chuckling slightly.

Harry smiled and thought of the kiss he and Draco had shared.

"Yeah, neither can I," he said.

Draco took a sip of his Butterbeer and started when he heard the door to the pub open. His eyes flicked up to see who had entered and lowered again when it wasn't Harry.

He took another sip of his drink and wondered vaguely why he'd arrived so early. For the last fifteen minutes, his stomach had been jumping all over the place whenever the door to the pub had opened; but he hadn't been able to remain any longer at the Manor. He'd paced up and down the drawing room for ages before he'd given up and gone ahead to the pub to have a drink to calm his nerves. He didn't know why he was nervous, really, but another part of him wanted to get out of the house so that Harry couldn't contact him to cancel.

The large door creaked open, and Draco flicked his head up again. He sighed when it wasn't Harry entering the pub and dropped his eyes once again to the tankard in front of him.

He played idly with the handle and sighed again. He picked up the tankard to take a sip and, in glancing upwards to the door, was met with a brilliant green gaze.

"Hey, you," Harry said brightly.

Draco choked on his Butterbeer. _Where_ had Harry come from?

"Hey," Draco spluttered. "How are you?"

Harry looked at him in concern.

"I'm fine, are _you_ alright?"

Draco coughed and cleared his throat.

"Yes, just went down the wrong pipe, I'm fine," he said, highly embarrassed to have been caught by surprise. He dropped a Galleon on the table and stood up. "Shall we?"

Harry smiled at him, and they made their way to the door.

"Where are we going?"

"I thought we'd have dinner at The Ivy and then walk around London a bit," Draco replied as they stepped out into the cool night air.

Harry stopped walking.

"_The Ivy?_" His eyes were wide.

"Sure," said Draco, "what's wrong with there?" He suppressed a grin. He knew about The Ivy and the clientele it served; he was sure Harry would be duly impressed by his choice.

"Nothing at all. It's just… Do you know how hard it is to get a reservation there?" Harry said incredulously.

"Is it really? Well, I'm sure we'll have no trouble tonight," Draco said, and, taking Harry's hand in his, they walked down Litchfield Street to the restaurant.

"Reservation for Malfoy," Draco said to the maître'd.

Harry looked around the small, but very glamorous restaurant in amazement; he'd only ever passed by The Ivy a few times on his way to the Leaky Cauldron with his friends. The lines were always miles long and tonight had been no different, but somehow they'd gotten in. He'd also heard of the celebrities that often chose to dine there while in London. He wished he'd dressed better.

"…yes, sir, Malfoy, right there," Draco was saying as he pointed to a spot on the list of reservations.

"Of course, Mr Malfoy, right this way please," said the maître'd, looking slightly confused.

Harry was sure he saw Draco grinning as they followed the man into the restaurant, but he was soon lost in his furtive glances around the room to pay much more attention. His eyes were drawn to a large party of people sitting towards the back of the restaurant. His mouth dropped open when he recognised one of table's occupants.

"Holy shit!" Harry hissed. "It's Orlando Bloom!"

"Who?" Draco asked blankly, following Harry's gaze. _What kind of name is Orlando Bloom? Who names these people, anyway?_

"Orlando Bloom," Harry repeated as they sat down at their table near the window. "The actor, sitting right over there, the good-looking one."

"Surrounded by all those women? He's alright, I suppose. One nostril is bigger than the other though," Draco said nonchalantly, thumbing through the menu. "D'you want wine with dinner?"

Harry snorted with laughter.

"Clearly you underestimate the power of Legolas, and yes, wine sounds great," he said, picking up his own menu. "So, how lucky were we to get in here tonight? Did you see the length of that line outside?"

A waiter arrived and took their drink order.

"Well, I wouldn't say lucky, but we are… fortunate," Draco said when the waiter left, his eyes still on the menu.

Harry's eyes narrowed. He knew that tone; Draco was hiding something. He was about to open his mouth to ask what was going on when the waiter returned with their bottle of wine and poured them each a glass, leaving the bottle in its ice bath. Harry observed Draco carefully throughout the pouring process. The senses honed by his Auror training kicked in, detecting misdeed. However, the senses honed by his libido were drawn to the silvery eyelashes and their shadows that dusted across Draco's pale cheeks. He battled with himself, trying to decide whether to satisfy his curiosity, or to keep his eyes fixed firmly on Draco's face. Curiosity won out.

"Draco, what did you do?"

"Me? Nothing," Draco said, looking surprised as he picked up his glass.

"Draco…" _You're a bad liar…_

"Well…" Draco grinned slyly and raised his index finger, wiggling it slightly in front of his face. "_Peut-être juste un peu de magie_."

Harry momentarily forgot what was happening as he was mesmerised by Draco's mouth and the words that flowed past his lips in… was that French? _Wow._

"What?" Harry said, snapping out of his reverie.

Draco leaned forward, the sly grin still on his face.

"Mmmagic," he whispered.

Harry's eyes widened, and his mouth fell open.

"_Are you out of your mind?_" Harry hissed when he'd recovered from the shock.

"Like a fox, or should I say, snake," Draco said as he raised his glass to Harry.

Harry gave up and laughed. "Well, I guess you can take the boy out of Slytherin, but you can't take Slytherin out of the boy."

"Damn straight, Potter." Draco clinked his glass against Harry's.

"So where'd you learn to speak French, anyway?" Harry asked as he and Draco set off down West Street.

"Well, after sixth year, I moved to France with my parents and finished my seventh year at Beauxbatons. After school, I did some travelling around Europe with a few friends, and then I worked for three years in the French Ministry. I then decided that I missed the quiet English countryside, applied for a transfer to our Ministry a year ago, and moved back here when they accepted me."

They crossed onto Shaftesbury Avenue.

Harry was impressed. "There's another piece to that puzzle."

Draco laughed and placed his arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry felt a very pleasant sensation in his stomach when he felt the warmth of Draco's body next to him, and he turned to smile at him. His eyes then lit on a large building on Draco's other side.

Odeon Cinema was showing _Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl_, starring Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom.

Harry's grin broadened as Draco followed his gaze.

"Hey, Harry, isn't that the bloke from the restaurant? Orlando whatshisname?"

"Indeed it is."

Draco looked up at the poster again. Since Harry had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, Draco had been dying to kiss him again, and he'd hoped that a stroll into the park nearby, under the stars, might have been a good opportunity. But, as he considered how excited Harry had been when he'd seen the actor in the restaurant, he felt he could hold off, at least for a little while, to make Harry happy. The stars would still be there when they got out.

"Do you want to go in?"

Harry smiled and Draco's insides melted.

"You wouldn't mind?" Harry asked, a little disbelievingly.

_No, I wouldn't mind,_ Draco said to himself. _It would be totally worth it just to see you smile like that._

"Not in the least. After all, I've never been to a cinema before; there's got to be a first time for everything."

Ten minutes later, Harry was leading Draco into the dark theatre with a large bag of popcorn in one hand and a Diet Coke in the other, much to Draco's amusement.

They chose their seats at the back and centre of the theatre and settled in just as the curtains began to open and the previews began.

"So, what's all the fuss about this?" Draco asked, munching on a handful of popcorn as they watched a preview for a film called _Bad Boys II_.

"Well, it's huge entertainment for the Muggle world. What can I tell you?" Harry said. "People pretending to be other people, dressing in costumes, learning lines, using computers to create effects and atmospheres," he laughed. "Well, when I put it that way, it sounds a bit complicated. But you'll see, you get lost in it."

Draco took a sip of Coke. _I'd certainly like to get lost in you._ He put the cup down and dropped his hand into Harry's lap, splaying his fingers across his thigh, smiling at the shudder he felt under his palm. His smile broadened as he felt Harry's hand rest on top of his and he interlaced their fingers. The lights dimmed and Draco closed the space between him and Harry, relaxing into him as the film began.

It was nearly midnight when they left the cinema, singing "A Pirate's Life for Me" as they walked down Shaftesbury Avenue, back to Charing Cross Road.

Harry leapt away from Draco and drew his wand from inside his jacket, brandishing it like a sword. Laughing, Draco did the same and they played the first swordfight scene between Will Turner and _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, until sparks flew between them, literally. Giggling madly, Harry replaced his wand.

"Enough _magie_ for one night in Muggle London, I think," he said.

"I suppose you're right," Draco panted. "D'you want to come back to the Manor with me for a drink?"

"Sure."

More than once during the film, Harry had had to restrain himself from leaning over the armrest that separated them and kissing Draco into next week. But, when he considered Draco's upbringing, he figured that it might have been in bad taste. He hoped things would change once they got out of the public. Once back in the Leaky Cauldron, they went out to the back and Apparated to Malfoy Manor.

"This is such a beautiful house," Harry said in awe as he sat down on the large, overstuffed couch in the sitting room of the Manor. Family portraits and other magnificent paintings hung on the walls, and antique pieces of sculpture decorated almost every surface. A huge grand piano stood over in a corner near the open French doors that led out onto the patio, and the grounds behind the Manor. Gentle breaths of night air were softly wafting into the room.

"Thank you," Draco said, handing him a glass of Firewhisky and sitting down next to him on the sofa. "Don't ask me where it all came from though; most of it's been here since before I was born. Cheers." Draco drained his glass and leaned back on the sofa.

Harry turned to face him. "I don't think I thanked you properly for tonight, Draco."

"Oh, come on, it was my pleasure. No dinner at any restaurant can compare to a home cooked meal, and the film was a really unexpected treat for me."

Harry took another sip of his drink and looked up at Draco from under his eyelashes, a small smile on his lips.

Draco took the drink out of Harry's hand and rested it on the coffee table. "But, if it's gratitude you want to show, let me demonstrate the best kind." He leaned in towards Harry and kissed him.

_Finally!_ a collective sigh echoed in both their minds.

Harry drew his tongue across Draco's lips, requesting access. He groaned as his tongue entered the heat of Draco's mouth.

In a short space of time, Harry found himself on his back with Draco lying on top of him, his hand snaking lazily down Harry's chest. He was unable to hold back the sharp intake of breath when Draco's hand slipped up his shirt and his long fingers caressed his flesh.

Draco pulled back from Harry's mouth and turned his attention to his neck, planting kisses from his jaw down to his collarbone. With his free hand, he reached up and unfastened the top button of Harry's shirt, his other hand still stroking Harry's belly. His excitement grew as he felt Harry's body respond to his touch, and he was eager to have more. He slid his hand down the smooth skin of Harry's abdomen and came to rest upon his belt. Then, he stopped.

_What am I doing? Damnit! Stop, Draco, just stop! You know what's going to happen if you – oh, but I want to! NO! I understand that you are pelvically driven right now, but this is NOT the time to display it! Now, back away… slowly._

Draco grimaced and pulled back from Harry's body, his fingers digging into the cushions behind Harry's head. He was aching to continue, but he knew that he shouldn't, for Harry's sake. He sat up and took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself.

Harry's eyes snapped open; Draco had just been firmly latched onto his neck and _very_ close to his growing erection, and now he was gone. Harry sat up, his heart still hammering, his breathing heavy. Draco was watching him with an almost sorrowful look on his face.

"Draco, what's the matter?"

For a few moments, Draco did not speak.

"Have I done something wrong?" Harry asked, both confused and a little embarrassed. Hadn't things been going extremely well? He felt a twinge of shame and hurt when he remembered that Draco had denied him a proper kiss the night before.

"No, Harry, you haven't. I just don't think we're ready for this, that's all," came the reply.

"Ready for what, Draco?" Harry was beginning to feel annoyed. Wasn't it Draco who'd pushed him back onto the couch, deliciously teasing him with his tongue? Harry's eyes narrowed.

"This," said Draco quietly.

"Then what the fuck is _this_ all about?" Harry snapped, standing up and firmly buttoning his shirt back up.

Draco's eyes visibly darkened. "I'm sorry, but I just can't do this tonight."

Harry shook his head. _Fucking Slytherin prick! It's always about what he wants, isn't it? Prince of Slytherin, my arse!_

"Some things never change do they, Malfoy?" he said icily. "It's got to be your way or no way, right? Well, fuck you."

"Harry, don't be so stupid, that's not what --"

"Whatever. I'll see you around." With a loud crack Harry Disapparated from the Manor.


	5. Miscommunication

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.**

Draco woke feeling very depressed, perhaps even more so than he'd been the night before when Harry had left him in a whirl of fury. He rolled onto his back in his huge four-poster bed in the master bedroom, having taken it over as his own when he'd moved back home. Though he liked the space, it got very lonely from time to time.

He thought back to the night before, after Harry had left. He'd collapsed back onto the couch, trembling slightly from the lust he'd been unable to release, picked up Harry's glass of firewhisky and drained it. He swore he could still taste Harry on the rim of the glass. He hadn't meant to make Harry so angry, he just didn't want it to end the way it had with Sebastien. The sex had been great, but in the end, it was all they had. He covered his head with a pillow and groaned. He considered sending Harry an owl to find out if he was alright, but upon recollection of Harry's temper, thought better of it, fearing for the poor owl's life. He'd give him a day or two to cool off; perhaps things would look better later in the week. Draco Malfoy, after all, was no quitter.

He glanced at the large clock on the opposite wall and slowly got out of bed. Sunday lunch would be served at Villa Malfoy in half an hour. He stepped out of his clothes on the way to the shower, grumbling to himself. He wished he could just stay in bed all day on Sundays or have to work, anything to avoid his father's disapproving look and the inevitable questions.

_"When are you going to stop playing these silly games and settle down, Draco?"_ Or _"When will you choose a wife and get married, Draco? We've given you everything you've ever asked for. Why can't you give us grandchildren to carry on the Malfoy line?"_ were some of Lucius' favourites.

That was all Draco's life had become to him: a disappointment and a joke. It was the same every week. He often considered not bothering to show up, but he didn't have the heart to hurt his mother's feelings.

Draco dressed and went downstairs to the living room fireplace. His stomach gave an involuntary squirm when he glanced at the coffee table where the firewhisky glasses still sat. He'd been so frustrated that he hadn't bothered to clear up. He sighed once again and picked up a handful of Floo powder from the fancy urn on the mantelpiece. He threw the shiny powder into the fireplace and watched as it burst into emerald flames. _Just like Harry's eyes…_ he thought miserably.

"Villa Malfoy!" he shouted, as he stepped forward and allowed the warm flames to consume him.

On Wednesday morning, Harry sat at his desk in the office, a blank memo sitting in front of him. He bit his lip and began to write.

_Draco,_

_I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to go so badly at your house on Saturday night. It wasn't your fault. I'm afraid I've got some underlying issues I need to work out which I didn't realise I had until that night. If you can find it in yourself to forgive me, I'd really appreciate your help to work said issues out._

_Contritely Yours,_

_Harry_

He breathed out and folded up the purple parchment into an aeroplane and let it go, watching as it flew to the lifts at the end of the room. The lift doors opened a few moments later, and a few wizards stepped out, followed by a small flock of parchment aeroplanes. Harry hoped Draco would get his note; he didn't know if he could stand to speak to him face-to-face after what had happened. He was so ashamed of himself for being such a stupid drama queen.

Suddenly, Ron's face appeared in front of him.

"Guess who's having broccoli tonight with dinner?" he said dryly, sitting on the edge of Harry's desk.

"Oh, crap, do we have to?"

Broccoli meant that Hermione would be coming round for dinner and making something very healthy and/or green for them to eat. To his surprise, Ron smiled sheepishly.

"Well, actually, I've got something to tell you. It's not going to save us from the broccoli, but I suppose it'll make us, or me at least, appreciate the broccoli a bit more."

Harry was thoroughly confused. "What are you on… holy shit!"

Ron had pulled from the pocket of his robes, a small blue velvet box, which he opened to reveal a diamond engagement ring: cut marquise style with two pear shaped diamonds on the side, giving the illusion of a crown.

Harry stared at Ron, a mixture of complete shock and joy flowing through him, and he jumped up and punched Ron in the arm before hugging him.

"Why didn't you tell me anything?" Harry demanded, frowning. It was not like Ron to keep things from him, especially not something like asking Hermione to marry him.

Ron blushed. "Well, I just kind of wanted to do this by myself. You know, pick out the ring and all that." Harry nodded. "So, I braved the Muggle jewellery stores; it took me three long weeks, but I finally decided on this one. I even went to Gringotts by myself to exchange the Galleons. I've been carrying it around with me for the last week, but I've been too nervous to ask her; what if she said no? I'd have died. But then, I watched her brushing her hair this morning before she left, and something just clicked in me. I realised that I want to be able to watch her brush her hair every morning for the rest of my life," Ron finished, a blush tinting his cheeks.

Harry stared.

"Ron, that's the most homosexual thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth," he said blankly.

"Oh, fuck off, Harry," Ron said angrily, while Harry snorted with laughter, dodging a smack on the back of the head. "I'll remember this when you and Ferret Boy kiss and make up."

"Oooh! Low blow, Ron," Harry sat back down at his desk.

Ron shot him a very dirty look and flipped him off.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Harry mulled over Ron's last comment and wondered if it were still possible for him and Draco to make up, when something hovering above his desk caught his eye; looking up, he saw a purple parchment aeroplane addressed to him in fancy handwriting. He opened it and read:

_Harry,_

_Please excuse the impersonal form this preliminary note of apology takes, but I wanted to be sure that you'd get it in the least conspicuous way. Also, I wasn't sure you'd listen to me if I tried to talk to you otherwise._

_I'm sorry for the way I acted this weekend, but I can explain everything. This note isn't exactly the best place for me to do so, but I promise, as soon as we get together, I'm more than willing to work it out with you._

_You know where to find me._

_Draco_

Harry's heart was beating out of his chest. Draco _didn't_ think him a complete idiot! A broad grin appeared on Harry's face when he thought of Draco's reaction to his own little note. His head full of tentative words of apology, Harry began to get up.

"Okay, Potter, I need you to get started on this research immediately if not sooner, I want the report on my desk before tomorrow." Aidan Mayhew, a senior Auror, plonked a large stack of files and paper on his desk.

Harry quickly crumpled the memo in his hand before looking up at Aidan in dismay. _So much for meeting Draco after work…_ Harry thought miserably.

Aidan smiled at him and walked away.

Harry ripped out another piece of purple parchment and began to scribble a short note to Draco, telling him that he'd be working late. He scowled when he heard Ron laughing from the cubicle behind him.

"Serves you right, arsehole," Ron said.

"Oh, bugger off!"

Draco reduced the fire on his cauldron of Veritaserum and left it to simmer. He replaced all of his ingredients and went to wash his hands. He stretched, his muscles aching from stirring and adding ingredients. He pulled on his robes and pushed his tie into the pocket, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt collar.

He locked the door behind him and walked slowly toward the lifts, dragging his feet. He was so tired. He said goodnight to his co-workers, Tracey and Eddie, who'd also been at the office far longer than they'd expected. He cursed the Healers at St Mungo's for sending them their order for thirty gallons of Blood-Replenishing Potion, A.S.A.P, at the end of their regular workday. They'd had to make ten gallons each. Draco's boss had arrived at three thirty that afternoon and dropped the heavy pile of papers on his desk. He hadn't heard Mr Fernley enter his room, and he'd been so startled by the thud on his desk, he had nearly endangered his Veritaserum. In addition to the Mungo's order, he had his own set of potions to make, the third part of the Veritaserum included. It had taken him four hours to make and send off the potion to St Mungo's. What right did their regular potion maker have going off sick, just like that?

Draco was so fatigued by the end of the day that he hadn't even noticed the feebly fluttering purple memos lying near the stack of forms.

Draco pushed the button to call the lift, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. The lift clattered up from the floor below and he got in, nodding to the people inside. He propped himself up at the back as it ascended to the floor above.

The doors rattled open and in stepped a lone figure: Harry. Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched the other man shuffle to the back of the lift. Harry hadn't even the balls to come down to his lab to talk.

"Potter," he said, nodding to Harry, who propped himself up just as Draco had, on the other end of the lift.

"Malfoy," Harry said, imitating Draco's nonchalant nod. _What is that prick still doing here when he hasn't had the common decency to reply to either of my notes?_

Harry felt dreadful; he'd spent the last four hours combing through the ancient, dust-covered archives to find the root of a Dark spell he'd encountered in his research. He thought he'd never breathe anything but ancient Ministry dust again. Plus, he was starving to the point of a major headache, so much so that even Hermione's broccoli sounded fantastic. The last person he felt like seeing was Malfoy. Harry had foolishly assumed that if Draco hadn't seen him before he left, he'd come looking, after having received the notes and all – apparently not. They ascended in a very uneasy silence until the lift stopped at the top floor and the passengers began to vacate. Harry had every intention to follow them out and go home immediately.

Draco had other ideas.

He noticed Harry's rapid movement towards the door and threw out an arm to push him back into the corner of the lift. He flung the golden grilles closed and pushed the number '7' on the panel of buttons.

Harry banged his head on the back of the lift. _FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! Why can I just GET OUT of here!_ The lift began to ascend. Harry seethed in his corner of the lift, his eyes tightly shut, trying to control his breathing. Malfoy could check himself into the nearest mental institution, for all Harry cared, if he thought this was just a ploy to get Harry alone, especially after his amazingly prudish behaviour at the weekend. He opened his eyes and turned to face the blond man before him.

"Alright, Malfoy, what the fuck is the matter with you? You send me a scribbled note of reconciliation, and then you totally ignore my _own_ attempt, and now you're flinging me around in lifts and I just want to leave! So please, enlighten me, what the fuck is wrong?" Harry shouted.

"What's wrong with me?" Draco said indignantly. "What the hell is wrong with you? I send you a very _pleasant_ note of apology, which _you_ chose to ignore, and what do you mean _your attempt?_ Judging by the lack of conversation we've had all day, I haven't seen any bloody attempt from you. So don't go dishing out blame like that to me, Potter!"

"Oh, so this is now totally my fault? I can't belie--"

"No, this is not all your fault, I told you I would explain everything if you'd just give me the chance. But you didn't, so what am I to do, Harry?"

Harry paused in delivering the stream of expletives that was ready to burst forth from his mouth. He was slightly mollified by what he saw in Draco's eyes: hurt. But he couldn't forgive him for rejecting him three times and then blaming him for not giving a stuff. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"Look, I sent you two memos today; the first one bore my apology for leaving the way I did on Saturday, the second was to tell you I'd be working late tonight," Harry said.

Draco frowned.

"I didn't get any memos from you, and, as you can see, you weren't the only one that had to work late. I just thought that since you didn't come, you didn't want to bother anymore."

The grilles opened loudly, startling both Harry and Draco. Three wizards got in and nodded to them. They got to the first floor, once more, in silence. The wizards left and Harry and Draco followed. Harry caught Draco's eye as the three loud cracks resounded in the Atrium.

"I sent you the first one just before I got my assignment, around half past three; I thought you'd be in your office. I sent the second one about five minutes after the first."

Draco sighed. "I was in a meeting that started at two, and then I got my own assignment, I haven't actually paid much attention to the office since."

"Well, don't you think you ought to check?" Harry said scathingly.

"Harry, it's late, I just--"

"Fine." Harry turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Draco groaned loudly. A throbbing pain was making itself plain above his left eye.

"Damnit," he muttered. It was a wonder he and Harry ever bothered to start talking again. Draco turned in the same spot as Harry had and Disapparated to the Manor in search of a hot bath and a headache cure.

Harry arrived with a loud pop in the fire exit stairwell of his apartment building and started up the stairs to his apartment. He couldn't face taking another ride in a lift. He laboriously pulled out his keys when he reached the door and got into the apartment. Hearing voices coming from the kitchen, he avoided the area; he didn't feel like being around people.

Once in his room, he pulled off his shoes and glasses and threw himself on his bed. He closed his eyes and within seconds, was fast asleep.

Despite having gone to bed early and falling asleep instantly, Harry was exhausted when he woke up the next morning. Between waking up because he was hungry, but far too lazy to get up and eat, and having dreams about Draco, he hadn't slept well. He rolled out of bed, grumbling about his bad luck, and got into the shower.

Miles away in the Wiltshire Manor, Draco was getting dressed and in a similar condition. He had hardly slept a wink, far too upset by his encounter with Harry the evening before. He was bloody well going to get to the office early and find those notes. He went downstairs to the kitchen and had a bowl of cereal before Apparating to the Ministry.

Once in his office, he groaned when he saw the two purple memos barely twitching on the floor near his desk. _Poor little buggers,_ Draco thought as he bent to retrieve them. He opened the first and began to read.

_Draco,_

_I just got your letter. I feel a little bit better now, but I agree that we should talk about it. But I can't today; I've just been presented with a huge pile of documents, and I've got to go and dig in the dust to research some of them. I'll contact you when I get home so we can sort this out._

_Harry_

Draco mentally kicked himself. Poor Harry, no wonder he was so upset. He opened the other memo, and he was further softened by Harry's apology. Perhaps he should try to rectify the situation again, immediately. He checked his watch and went uptairs to the small Ministry cafeteria. Harry was due into the office fifteen minutes ago, and hopefully he was on time. Draco purchased two cups of coffee and made his way up to the second floor, choosing to take the stairs, as he was totally fed up by the lifts. He entered the Auror office and went in search of Harry's untidy black hair and brilliant green eyes. In spite of himself, seeing Harry eyes blaze in his fit of anger had been quite alluring.

Harry had his head on his arms with his eyes closed to shut out the light. He hoped he wouldn't be called out to some kind of mission during which he'd actually have to be awake. In his sleepy haze, he felt rather than heard, someone standing above him. Something was placed on his desk next to him, and he looked up to see Draco standing before him, a cup of coffee in his hand, a similar one on his desk. Harry sat up and regarded Draco carefully before taking the cup.

"Thanks," Harry said, taking a sip.

"Enjoy your day, Harry, we'll talk later okay?" Draco said. He smiled at Harry and left the cubicle.

Harry took another sip of his coffee. _Well, okay then._

Draco corked the last vial of Sleeping Potion and placed it in the case with the others. The Auror Headquarters required several vials of this potion a month. The Aurors were often exposed to so much death and destruction in their line of work, and were often extraordinarily highly strung, that Calming Draughts and Sleeping Potions were given to them so they could relax and not have nightmares, or at least, not go totally insane.

Draco picked up the case and went to the lift to bring it up to the Aurors. He was glad that he had an excuse to go back to the second floor so he could see Harry. He was going to ask him out for lunch so they could at least begin to mend their relationship.

As he passed Harry's cubicle, he noticed with a flicker of sympathy, that Harry way lying on his desk with his head on his arm, the cup of coffee still in his hand. Draco thought of the Invigoration Draught down in his office that he'd been forced to take that morning, for fear of falling asleep and into his cauldron of Veritaserum.

After dropping off the case of vials and bidding the Aurors a good morning, Draco went back down to the third level, pausing just for a moment to look in on Harry. Smiling, he went back into his lab and refilled his vial of the Invigoration Draught.

"Potter!..."

"What?!" Harry jerked awake and sat up straight in his chair, spilling the coffee in his hand onto his desk.

"…Weasley! I want that report on Fenrir Greyback on my desk by four!" Their Head of Department, Gawain Robards, swished past their cubicles on his way to his office, shouting orders to his staff.

_Bugger!_ Harry couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep again.

"Hey, Harry, had a late night?" Ron was leaning over the top of the divider between their cubicles, an evil grin on his face.

"Shut up. I couldn't get to sleep last night," Harry said, reheating his now cold coffee with his wand.

"Well, do something about it, okay? You know I'll always have your back, Harry, but I'm beginning to feel a bit like Hermione did when we were in school; you know, when she did almost _all_ of our schoolwork for us," Ron said.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. He sipped his coffee and hoped it would be enough to help him through the rest of the morning. Ron disappeared behind the divider, and Harry riffled through the papers on his desk, cleaning the ones that had been splattered with coffee. Shaking his head vigorously, he got back to work.

Draco climbed up the stairs to the second floor once again, fingering the vial of potion in his pocket. His heart was beating with nervous haste and he hoped Harry wouldn't say no or have left for lunch already. Luckily, Harry was right where he'd left him, only he was awake this time. Grinning, Draco bounced into the cubicle and sat in front of Harry's desk.

"Hey, you," he said.

Harry slowly looked up from what he was writing, one eyebrow cocked in confusion. "Hi," he said. "What's up?"

"Wow, Harry, you look like I felt earlier today," Draco said in surprise. He rummaged around in his robe pocket and pulled out a small vial of orange potion and handed it to Harry. "That'll wake you up. It's an Invigoration Draught. I took some this morning."

Harry took a few sips and immediately began to feel like he'd just woken up from nine hours sleep. His nerves didn't feel like they were jangling, or he was about to bounce off walls, as he would if he'd drunk a double shot of espresso, he just didn't feel tired anymore. He rather enjoyed the effects of this particular potion, having taken it one or five times during school when he was studying all night. Muggles could keep their cocaine and speed; potions were far better. He'd considered making some himself, but he'd been far too tired to bother with the effort, choosing instead to wallow in self-pity for a while. At times such as these, he was a bit of an idiot.

"Thanks a lot," Harry said with a small smile. Now he felt a little bit worse, since Draco had taken the time and effort to help him, while he sat around looking and feeling wretched.

"You're welcome," said Draco. "As payment for my very kind gesture, you're going to let me take you out for lunch."

"I am?"

"Yes, you are. Let's go."

"Thanks again for the potion, Draco. I feel loads better. Though I'm not entirely certain how it's going to mix with the beer I'm about to drink," Harry said.

He and Draco were seated in the corner of Angel and Crown, plates of shepherd's pie and tankards of beer in front of them.

"You'll be fine," Draco said, taking a gulp from his own glass. They began to eat.

"Listen, Harry, I feel I should explain to you what went on in my head when I pulled away from you at such inopportune moments."

"Draco, you don't--"

"No, let me finish, please." Draco took a deep breath and continued. "A couple of years ago, when I lived in France, I was in a relationship with a man called Sebastien. Things went well for a while, but the thing was, as cliché as it sounds, it was all about the sex." Draco had a sudden image of hot skin on skin and Sebastien's face flashed into his mind. "The very hot sex…" The words tumbled out of Draco's mouth before he could stop them.

Harry choked on his shepherd's pie. "I beg you pardon?" he spluttered, taking a great gulp of beer

_Shit!_

"Not that I'm implying that what we've got isn't hot, because it is," Draco said, trying to reassure Harry that he was what he wanted; that he was worth the wait.

Draco's voice had turned as soft and smooth as caramel.

Harry's mouth had gone dry. He took another gulp of beer.

"So then, why'd you pull away from me after our first date if we're so hot and all?"

"Harry, we've got a history; bad history, yes, but it's still there. I want to treat whatever this is that we have together now with more respect than just to throw it out on a quick shag."

Harry was speechless.

"What's more is that, even after two dates, I feel more for you than I've ever felt for anyone before."

Draco could see that Harry was mulling over his words carefully. He gently covered Harry's hand with his own. Their eyes met and Draco felt a very pleasant stirring of _something_ in his stomach. As Harry opened his mouth to speak, the grandfather clock struck two and broke the moment.

"We've got to get back," Harry said in a low voice removing his hand from beneath Draco's.

"Yeah." Draco was disappointed, but the pleasant feeling hadn't dissipated.

They walked back down the street to the Ministry. They got into the deserted phone booth and Draco dialled 'magic' on the phone.

Harry turned to Draco when they got into the Atrium and placed a hand on Draco's upper arm.

"Meet me back here after work, and we'll go back to my flat and finish this, okay?"

"Okay, I'll see you later."

They shared a quick smile and separated.

Draco could still feel the skin of his arm tingling under his robes.


	6. Closer

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.**

At four thirty, Draco left his office after making sure to look around very carefully for any purple memos he may have missed, and took the lift up to the Atrium. Harry was standing by himself near the exit fireplaces with one foot up on the wall and his arms crossed, his hair carelessly ruffled and falling into his eyes. _God, he's gorgeous._

"Hey," Draco said as he approached.

"Hi, you ready to go?"

Draco nodded. "After you."

Harry picked up a handful of Floo powder from the sack suspended near the fireplace. Draco watched as Harry disappeared into the green flames before following him.

Draco appeared in the fireplace in Harry's kitchen and dusted himself off.

"Do you want something to drink?" Harry asked, going to the fridge.

"Sure, water's fine," Draco said, sitting down at the round table in the centre of the kitchen.

Harry sat next to him and placed a glass of water in front of him.

"Thanks." Draco took a sip.

Harry regarded him closely for a moment; the words Draco had spoken at lunch replayed themselves in Harry's mind. He cleared his throat.

"I never wanted just a quick shag from you. Caught up in the heat of the moment, I was angry that you pulled back, but to be totally honest with you, I just couldn't deal with rejection a second time."

Draco looked up at him and shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't mean for it to be –"

"Shhh." Harry placed his finger on Draco's lips. He raised his hand, and very, very slowly and softly, ran his fingertips down Draco's face, his eyes following the progress of his fingers, his lips parted slightly.

Draco's eyes were trained on Harry's mouth as he moved closer, and they fluttered closed when Harry's lips met his. Draco shifted closer and took Harry's head in his hands and stroked his thumbs across the side of Harry's face. He opened his mouth and allowed Harry entry; he smiled to feel his stomach pleasantly squirming when Harry ran his tongue over his bottom lip and back inside his mouth. He could kiss Harry forever…

"Oi! Get a room!"

Draco and Harry pulled apart rapidly. Ron and Hermione were standing in the kitchen doorway grinning.

"Oh, shut up, like I can't count on my hands and feet the number of times I've walked in on you two," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Hi, Draco," said Hermione. She was carrying a bag of vegetables and a pile of mail. She dropped the mail on the table and bustled about the kitchen, pulling out bowls and utensils, clearly ready to make a salad. That was when Harry noticed she was carrying her left hand differently, and more importantly, the diamond ring Ron had shown him the day before was now residing on her finger. Harry gaped at Ron who had sat down and was riffling through the mail.

Draco nudged him and shot him a puzzled look. Harry gestured towards Hermione and held up his left hand and waggled his ring finger.

Draco's eyes widened. "Should we say something?" he whispered to Harry.

"Hey, we got mail from Sacco," Ron said happily, tearing open the envelope. The next moment, he had turned white.

Harry's stomach dropped and a sudden cold washed over him.

Draco suddenly felt the energy within the room change drastically and looked up at Ron. Something was not right.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked very shakily.

Ron looked up from the letter at Harry, his mouth open, but he couldn't speak.

Hermione had turned around, and she read the letter over Ron's shoulder. She gasped and her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, no!"

"What?" Harry was growing hysterical. He grabbed the letter out of Ron's hand and began to read. Then he slumped back on his chair in total shock.

Draco read the letter and gulped. Harry and Ron's friend, Zak Sacco, had been killed.

Draco looked around the kitchen. Hermione had sat down next to Ron and wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him close to her. He turned to Harry who had also gone very pale; his scar was clearly visible through his hair, and his eyes had grown dark. He reached for Harry's hand, and squeezed lightly but Harry wouldn't look at him. They sat in complete silence, save for a sniffle or two from Ron, for several minutes.

Hermione and Draco had caught one another's eyes for a moment, and a flicker of fear passed between them. Though Draco tried not to think about it, he knew that it was possible for either Ron or Harry to meet a similar fate. He felt a sudden wave of sympathy for her – she had just gotten engaged to an Auror, and now this.

"Shall we have a drink?" Draco asked quietly.

There was a small murmur of assent from his companions. They would definitely need something stronger than wine. Draco looked around the kitchen, and his eyes rested on a bottle of Glenlivet twelve-year-old scotch on the sideboard. _Perfect._ He got up and picked up the bottle and went in search of glasses. He had just cracked the seal when Ron gave a strangled gasp. He turned. Ron and Harry were staring at him in horror.

"Are you crazy, Malfoy?"

Harry stood up and took the bottle out of Draco's hands, and covered it firmly.

"We are _not_ going to drink this, ever," Harry snarled.

Draco took a step back. "Take it easy, Harry, it's only a bottle of scotch. I'll get you another if you –"

"It is not _only_ scotch, Malfoy!" Harry spat, his eyes narrowed. "It's _Zak's_ scotch!"

_Oh… Damnit!_

"Harry, I'm sorry. I had no idea," Draco said softly, looking down at the floor. _How do I manage to piss him off so spectacularly every damn day?_

Harry was about to retort with something scathing, but the words got lost on his tongue when he saw Draco's face. He gritted his teeth and ran his fingers roughly through his hair. "I know you didn't," he said, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Harry, really," Draco said, squeezing Harry's arm in a comforting gesture.

Hermione had taken the bottle from Harry's hands and poured generous measures into the four glasses of ice.

"Come on, boys, what better way to honour his memory than to drink this?" she said.

They each took a glass, and sat back down at the table.

"To Zak," said Ron, raising his glass.

"To Zak," the other three repeated. They drained their glasses, and Ron poured them all another.

Several hours and glasses of Glenlivet later, Harry was curled up on the couch with Draco, the photo album Ron had been looking through so many weeks ago open on Draco's lap. Harry had spent the last hour telling Draco stories about Zak and how much fun they'd had at school. Draco had also been very amused to hear exactly how Harry had come to the realisation that he was gay, and secretly pleased to know that Harry had been thinking about him for so long, however subconsciously it may have been.

Hermione and Ron had gone to bed ages ago, but not before Hermione had asked Draco not to leave until Harry had sobered up, at least a little.

"Come on, Harry, have some more water." Draco held the glass out to him.

Harry took a sip and then rested his head on Draco's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Sleepy," he murmured.

"Let's get you into bed, okay?" Draco stood up and pulled Harry to his feet. They walked rather unsteadily to Harry's room.

"Need to pee." Harry pivoted extravagantly on his heel, and went into the bathroom.

Draco sat down on Harry's bed and waited for him to come out, just in case he managed to pass out.

Harry turned off the bathroom light and got into his bed. Drunk as he was, Harry could still feel the ache within him that hadn't let up, despite the presence of his friends and the alcohol. He was also very worried. He considered whether he'd chosen the right career, and he wondered if he'd be able to cope with the loss of another friend. Draco had gotten up from the bed and was leaning over him, saying his goodbyes. Suddenly, Harry didn't want to be by himself at all; he began to tremble. Draco kissed him gently on the cheek and turned to go. Harry reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"Please, don't leave," he said in a voice very unlike his own.

Draco's stomach turned over. Surely he hadn't just heard Harry ask him not to leave. "Sorry?"

He pulled Draco back towards him. "Don't leave, please."

Draco sat back down on the bed and looked at Harry. He could feel his hand trembling, and he looked almost frightened.

"Okay, I'll stay." Draco pulled off his shoes, and lay down next to Harry.

Harry's first stifled cry broke the silence between them. Draco's heart began to race. What was he supposed to do?

Harry turned on his side, and curled into a ball; his body shook with sobs, his fists clenching around his pillow.

Draco touched his shoulder and moved closer. Harry didn't move or tell him to stop. Draco swallowed hard. How on earth was he to comfort Harry at a time like this? What was there to say? He took a deep breath and pressed his chest against Harry's back, placing an arm around Harry's body, pulling him close. He found Harry's hand and intertwined their fingers. Harry squeezed tightly, and his body shuddered with grief. Draco pressed his lips into Harry's shoulder, and buried his other hand in Harry's unruly locks. The pleasant feeling Draco had experienced while he was with Harry earlier in the day had returned, lessening the gut-wrenching one he'd felt when they'd gotten the news about Zak. He suddenly felt that he wouldn't prefer to be anywhere else in the world than with Harry, holding him as he cried. "Shhh, it'll be alright, Harry," he whispered.

Very gradually, Harry's wracking sobs subsided to gentle whimpers as he fell asleep with Draco's arms wrapped closely around him. Draco breathed in Harry's scent and allowed his mind to take hold of the situation.

In the space of five days, he'd gone from thinking that things with Harry had been totally ruined, to lying with him in his bed and comforting him. It also surprised him to realise that in the same space of time, Harry had been able to trust him enough to display such a private emotion in front of him. Running his fingers through the thick, dark hair, Draco was once again overcome by the pleasant feeling in his stomach, and it began to make him slightly nervous. He had no recollection of caring for someone as he did for Harry. Draco was only familiar with one emotion when it came to romantic relationships: lust. This was _definitely_ not lust.

Draco yawned and rested his head on Harry's pillow. He was suddenly extremely tired. His thoughts faded into the back of his mind, and sleep took over.

Harry woke and his brain slowly began to process his whereabouts. He was very warm and comfortable in his bed, especially his pillows, but he felt exhausted and uneasy – and his skull ached like something else! He opened his eyes and found that he was not lying on a pillow, but on a very warm body. He looked up to see Draco's sleeping face. Harry wondered why he was seeing Draco's face, and why he had a hangover headache. But they were both fully clothed, and Harry didn't feel _those_ kinds of aches. The previous night's events slowly came back to him. _Zak._ Draco had opened the Glenlivet; that explained the headache. God, they hadn't even contacted Zak's mother. Harry groaned. _But he stayed. I asked him to stay with me, and he did. And I cried... in front of him._ Harry had barely ever cried like that in front of Ron and Hermione, far less his ex-enemy turned… something else, but he'd let his guard down in front of Draco. What did that mean? Harry's head gave a particularly nasty throb and he groaned again.

Draco stirred beneath him. Harry hoped he hadn't woken him up, for despite his woes and worries, he thought Draco looked especially beautiful while he was asleep. He found himself wanting to see Draco sleep more often.

"Morning, Harry."

Harry was startled out of his thoughts. "Morning," he replied. "Did you sleep alright?"

"As well as one could in an unfamiliar place," Draco said with a small smile. His fingers found Harry's hair, causing Harry to close his eyes again. He was still so tired.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I hope Hermione didn't make you feel like you had to stay or anything."

"Harry, she didn't make me do anything. I wouldn't still be here if I didn't want to be, okay?"

"Okay."

Draco was massaging his scalp and the back of his neck, and he was beginning to relax again.

"It's still early. I'll wake you up when it's time to go," Draco said.

Harry barely murmured that he'd heard Draco and understood what he'd said. He accepted the call of sleep, enjoying Draco's fingers in his hair. _A person could easily get used to this…_

When Draco opened his eyes again, he was suddenly wide awake. _Things shouldn't be so bright at eight in the morning._ When he checked his watch, he thought he was still dreaming. _Ten-thirty!_

"Harry, we have to go!" Draco whispered urgently in his ear, shaking him gently. Harry didn't budge. _Crap._ "Harry!" Draco shook him violently.

"What?" Harry grumbled, a frown creasing his forehead.

"We have to go to work. Now." Draco got out of the bed and looked down at himself. Every article of clothing was wrinkled. It was on days like these that Draco was absolutely ecstatic that he'd been born a wizard. He picked up his wand from Harry's bedside table and muttered a spell to straighten out his clothes. He tucked in his shirt and looked around for his tie. Harry still hadn't moved.

"Come _on_, Potter! Get up; it's ten-thirty."

"It's _what?_" Harry reared out of bed and dashed to the bathroom.

Draco sighed and found his tie draped across his robes on the chair in the corner.

"I can't believe we overslept!" Harry had returned from the bathroom and was pulling on a set of robes he had yanked from his cupboard. "Come on, let's go."

They hurried out of the apartment and down the fire escape.

"It's safe to Apparate down here, just in case you ever wanted to know." Harry winked at Draco and left with a loud crack.

"Thanks," Draco whispered. "I'll remember that."

Harry spent most of the weekend lying about the apartment. Draco had come by to see him each day, bringing much-needed comfort. Though Hermione was spending the weekend at their apartment, she and Ron were holed up in his room, only emerging at mealtimes. Without Draco, Harry would have had a much harder time dealing with the loss. He listened if Harry felt like talking, but he was just as content to sit with Harry's head in his lap, stroking his hair. On Sunday afternoon, an owl carrying a letter from Zak's parents arrived, with details of the funeral set for Tuesday morning.

"I should be able to get some time off from work," Hermione said to Ron.

Harry shot a hopeful glance to Draco. Was it fair to expect Draco to go with him?

"I should be able to as well. If anything, Tracey or Eddie can cover for me for a couple of hours," Draco said.

He had spoken too soon.

After having gone to the trouble of asking Fernley for permission to have some personal time off and after he made sure Tracey and Eddie could cover for him, it would have been far too easy to have everything work out as planned.

Draco had been about to leave to meet Harry for a late breakfast when an urgent Ministry owl had arrived at his kitchen window. He tore open the letter and read it quickly. _"Fuck!"_

Apparently, Eddie, his and Tracey's capable, but inexperienced and sometimes butter-fingered assistant, had been carrying several large glass phials of simple boil-curing potion and dropped them. He proceeded to slip and fall in the potion and had pulled down their entire supply of Wolfsbane Potion with him.

Draco tried to keep his temper in check and carefully moved away from all glass objects within his range. He thought he'd seen the worst from Neville Longbottom at school, but he believed that even Longbottom would have had a hard time topping this.

Draco growled in anger. Not only was the Wolfsbane Potion very difficult to make, but the full moon was drawing closer and they needed their supply. Since Voldemort's ultimate downfall, the vilification of werewolves had ceased. The Ministry now controlled the distribution of the potion to werewolves, and potion makers had to be licensed by the Ministry to make it. Draco and Tracey were two of Britain's licensed Wolfsbane Potion makers.

With a shaking hand, Draco scribbled a note of apology to Harry, and said that he'd definitely see him when he got back. He hoped to all that was heavenly that Harry would forgive him, again. Draco took a calming breath of air and Apparated to the Ministry.

Draco flung open the door to the lab. Tracey was already there helping Eddie to clean himself and the floor.

"Draco, I'm so –" Eddie began.

"Save it!" Draco snapped. "Tracey, get over here and start these cauldrons."

She had the good sense not to argue with him and got up immediately to help him begin the preliminary mixture.

Three hours later, the room was finally cleaned up and back in some sort of order, and Draco and Tracey had gotten halfway through the potion. Tracey excused herself to go to the loo while the potion simmered for the required five minutes before the next ingredient was added. Draco looked up at Eddie who had stayed out of his way through the potion making process. All three of them would need to be present for the next step to add the wolfsbane to each of the three cauldrons they were using, and stir five times in a clockwise direction and ten times in an anti-clockwise direction immediately following. Tracey returned and they each measured their wolfsbane and stood at their respective cauldrons.

"Eddie, if you fuck this up, I'll have you murdered," Draco said, very calmly, seconds before they had to add their ingredients.

Eddie laughed and then, when he noticed that Draco was quite serious, stared.

Later, Draco laughed nastily to himself. The look on Eddie's face was almost worth not being with Harry. Almost.

It was past midnight when Harry, Ron and Hermione returned from New York. Once in the apartment, Hermione and Ron had gone straight to bed. Harry sat down on the couch and rested his head in his hands. He was absolutely shattered. Exhausted from the anguish he'd been forced to bear by himself, and from the gut-clenching worry that he and Ron could be next. He found that he missed Draco's soothing presence especially; more than he thought he could ever miss a person in a single moment. He was in so much emotional distress it took his breath. And now he was alone again. Holding back a sob, he got up and went to have a bath.

Harry got into bed and covered himself with the duvet, trying to warm up; despite the hot shower, he was shivering feverishly. He rested his head on his pillow and caught the lingering scent of Draco's 212. Groaning loudly, he clung to the pillow tightly, willing the desperation for human comfort to go away. _You're an Auror for Merlin's sake! Suck it up!_

But he couldn't. Harry made up his mind, got out of bed and pulled on his clothes.

Draco tossed and turned; sleep was evading him. He had a right to be tired, but he couldn't get his mind to relax. He'd gone to Harry's apartment after he'd finished with the Wolfsbane Potion, but they hadn't yet returned. He resisted the urge to keep checking back and instead, tried to have dinner and read a book, to get his mind off Harry. Neither had worked. Draco assumed that Harry would be far too tired from the funeral to want him around, but he hoped that Harry wasn't taking things too hard.

He jumped out of his skin at the loud clanging noise of the doorbell.

He padded quietly downstairs, not knowing who or what to expect on the other side of the door, and almost shouted out loud with relief when he looked through the peephole. It was Harry. His feelings rapidly changed to those of sympathy when he saw how miserable and pale Harry looked. He unlocked the door quickly.

"I'm sorry to wake you," Harry began slowly. "I just needed to… see you."

Draco's heart leapt.

"You didn't wake me, I promise. Come inside."

Draco turned on the lamps in the kitchen and gestured for Harry to sit. "Can I get you anything? A cup of tea? Or maybe a stiff drink?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. Harry looked terrible.

A ghost of a smile crossed Harry's features. "No, thank you, I'm okay."

"Have you eaten?"

"No," he said. "I haven't been very hungry."

Draco sat opposite Harry and took his hands, surprised to find them so cold. He rubbed them together in his own hands, trying to warm them.

Harry looked up at Draco, his emerald eyes bright.

"I missed you today," he said. "I missed you so much, it hurt. And to be surrounded by all of those people, and seeing one of my best friends, who'd barely begun to live, gone, just like that…" A tear slid down his cheek.

Draco brushed it away and Harry continued.

"I was scared. I know Ron's scared, probably more than I am, since he's starting a family and all; and I just don't want to bother him with this. But he's got Hermione, at least, to help him carry it all. She's really amazing, that girl." Harry looked at Draco with his startlingly green eyes. "I couldn't face being alone by myself anymore."

"Well, you've got me, Harry," Draco said, bringing Harry's chilly fingers to his lips. _In more ways than one,_ he thought. He vaguely wondered why this thought didn't bother him anymore. "Let's get some sleep, shall we?" He got up and pulled Harry to his feet.

"Oh, I couldn't, I –"

Draco kissed him.

"You can and you are," he whispered on Harry's lips. He wrapped his arms around Harry, feeling him tremble. He led Harry up the stairs and into his bedroom. He took off his bathrobe and draped it on one of the posts of his bed. He got under the duvet and pulled it back from the other side of the bed.

Harry pushed off his trainers and took his jeans off, leaving them on the chair near to where he stood.

Draco smiled warmly at him as he approached. "I promise I won't bite," he said.

Harry smiled and took a deep breath. This was very different when he wasn't drunk, and it wasn't his bed. He got in beside Draco and covered himself up.

Draco put out the lamps with his wand and moved closer to Harry. He placed an arm over Harry and found his hand, allowing himself to relax into the curve of Harry's back.

"Goodnight," they whispered in unison. They chuckled and snuggled closer together.

_…I think I'm falling in love with you,_ Draco added silently.

On the other side of the bed, Harry was thinking the same thing.


	7. Initiation

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.**

"Mayhew, get in my office now!" Robards shouted urgently from the end of the Department.

Harry stuck his head round the side of his cubicle, narrowly missing having it knocked off by Mayhew as he hurried past. Ron was peering out of his own cubicle, and he and Harry stared at each other. Aidan Mayhew was heading the back-up team made up of him, Harry, Ron and Tonks for a particularly dangerous surveillance mission. They had been on high alert all week, and it appeared that they were going to be needed.

"Weasley, Potter! Get over here!" they heard Mayhew shout from outside Robards' office.

"Come on, boys, move it!" Tonks had just appeared outside their cubicles looking worried.

"Dickens has been caught," said Mayhew when they gathered in the small office. "He confirmed our suspicions about Dempewolfe, and his involvement with the Dark Arts and Muggles just last night. Dempewolfe had his Muggle idiots follow Dickens, and they captured him this morning. We need to get him out of there."

"Two Hit Wizards will be joining your team, Donahue and Grant, to clear the area. Dempewolfe is a nasty piece of work, and I don't want you lot in more trouble than you need to be," Robards said to them.

Four red folders flew off his desk and into their hands.

"Those are Dickens' reports so far. I want you out of here in twenty minutes, if not sooner. Take ten minutes to read through these, and clear up your desks. Meet in the equipment room as soon as you're ready."

Harry was already packed, suited up in his black leather cloak that had extra Concealment Charms placed upon it, and was lacing up his boots when Ron rushed through the door apologising profusely as he grabbed his own clothes.

"Come on, you two, we're leaving in one minute," Tonks said, turning to leave. Her hair was long and black, and icy blue eyes flashed from within her face.

Ron hurriedly pulled on his boots and threw his cloak over his shoulders, and he and Harry hurried after Tonks to the Portkey that would transport them to Germany.

"Where the hell were you?" Harry hissed.

"I had to tell Hermione I was leaving or else my balls would have been on the chopping block immediately upon my return," Ron whispered back.

"Fuck!" Harry smacked himself on the forehead. He'd forgotten to tell Draco!

Ron seemed to read his mind. "There's no time, mate. He'll understand; don't worry."

"Glad you can be so sure," Harry grumbled as he placed his finger on the empty beans can. He grimaced as he felt the familiar pull behind his navel, and they were gone.

Draco stood outside Harry's apartment door in frustration. He'd knocked several times, but it appeared that no one was at home. Something very strange was going on. He and Harry had agreed to meet for lunch at the pub, but Harry hadn't shown up, and when he'd checked at the Auror headquarters, he had been informed that _'Mr Potter is unavailable,' _as was Mr Weasley. He'd gone to the apartment during lunch to see if they were at home, but there was no answer.

Bugger!

Upon returning to his office, he'd sent a very colourfully worded letter to Hermione Granger, asking her if _she_ knew anything.

_Draco,  
Harry and Ron are currently on a mission. They left this morning at ten o' clock, and I don't actually know when they'll be back. Are you sure you didn't get a note from Harry?_

Draco checked his office thoroughly for discarded notes and found none.

_If you did, then all of this can be forgotten; if not, I can't really explain what happened, but I think it safe to assume he didn't have time during his preparations._

_Hermione Granger_

_P.S. In the future I ask that you please contain your violent language, or you'll be eating soup through a very small straw for a week._

"Bitch," he'd muttered furiously. But he knew full well that her threats were genuine; he didn't trust the angry Hermione, not since their third year at Hogwarts. He groaned and crumpled her note in his fist. How did Ron have time to give Hermione his news, and Harry didn't? He and Ron were joined at the hip most of the time, and surely Harry had seen Ron send a note to his fiancée. Banging his fist on the desk, Draco swore loudly. He thought he meant more to Harry than that; he certainly wouldn't have forgotten Harry! He went into his lab and miserably began pulling ingredients down from his store cupboards.

"Alright, team, Donahue has just moved in on Dempewolfe. Grant has us covered from behind. Potter, take left, Weasley, you take right. Tonks, are you doing okay, mate?"

Mayhew's voice magically echoed in each of their ears as they surrounded the building in which Dickens was held captive.

"Yes, I can see the Muggles. Dickens is between them. He looks pretty beat up, guys," Tonks replied.

"We'll worry about that once we get him out."

Harry was in the zone. Every particle of his being was focused completely on what was going on around him. They hadn't slept in two days, but the rush of adrenaline in his bloodstream kept him alert. They were so close to their target…

Since Draco had gotten the news of Harry's departure, he'd been checking at the apartment for any sign of return. He felt like a stalker, but the burning need to ream Harry Potter a new arsehole was overwhelming. However, he'd decided to give up checking if they weren't back by the fourth day. He'd spent restless night after restless night at the Manor, not only incredibly angry and hurt, but very worried that either Harry or Ron could end up in the same state as Zak Sacco.

Draco dressed in his best black and silver patterned robes and stepped into his shoes. He went to the mirror and brushed his sleek blond hair back off his face. He looked terrible, but he had to go. It would at least save him from over-thinking things about Harry. Besides, it _was_ his birthday; he might as well try to enjoy the liquor his father would undoubtedly supply before, during and after dinner, if nothing else. He cast a last glance at his reflection and padded heavily down the stairs to his fireplace.

"Villa Malfoy," he grumbled, disappearing into the emerald flames. He had barely stepped out into the drawing room when someone very small hurtled into his arms, squealing a "happy birthday". He looked down in surprise to see one of his long-time friends from Beauxbatons, Estelle de Chassole. He hugged her back and noticed with a sinking feeling that her parents were also present, standing next to his, beaming at them. _Arse! _

Both the de Chassoles and the Malfoys had convinced themselves that Draco and Estelle would make a magnificent couple and chose to assail them with suggestive remarks concerning their wedding at nearly every opportunity. At times like these, Draco and Estelle chose to play along rather than make a scene. Though Estelle knew that he was gay, and though their families had been friends for ages, she'd never betrayed his trust, and it remained a secret. Estelle looked up at him and winked. He grinned down at her. Perhaps the night wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Okay, Potter, that's thumbs up from Grant. Weasley, have you got him covered?"

"Yes, sir."

Harry held his wand aloft under his Invisibility Cloak and moved forward into the room where Dickens was being held. His shoes made no noise on the dusty floor as he crept up behind the guards, his mind aware of Ron right behind him, ready to cast Stunning Spells if he needed to, so that Harry could grab Dickens and get out quickly. He hoped Ron wouldn't need to. Donahue and Grant had it under control, but mistakes could happen in split seconds.

"Ready, Potter?"

"Ready."

"Now."

"Bye, Estelle, it was really great to see you again," Draco said, hugging his friend goodbye.

"You too, Draco," she whispered. "And whatever it is that's bothering you, I hope it works out."

He smiled at her and then shook hands with her parents, and he and Narcissa waited until they had Disapparated before going back in the house.

Dinner had been unusually tense that night, despite the amount of wine Draco had consumed. Mrs de Chassole and his mother had gone on and on about weddings and how lovely it would be for there to be a big, beautiful wedding between the children. Draco, who was usually quite fond of making whispered jokes to Estelle when their mothers got together, found himself thinking only of Harry. He was worried about him, and he was worried that their relationship might not even be a relationship anymore, which depressed him further. When Estelle questioned him, he merely shrugged his shoulders and pushed his food around on his plate. He just wanted to go home and crack open his new bottle of Ogdens Old Firewhisky and get pissed.

"Oh, Draco, I _wish_ you would just consider taking Estelle out. She's such a lovely girl, and she comes from a respectable family that we've known for years. Just what exactly is wrong with her?" his mother said exasperatedly as they went back into the drawing room.

Draco lost his temper. Fuelled by hurt and alcohol, the truth seeped out to the surface.

"For Merlin's sake, Mother," he said through gritted teeth, "I don't bloody fancy girls, alright?"

She sighed. "Well, you're not getting any younger, darling, and I don't know how much your father and I can help with finding you a girl as nice as Estelle."

"No, Mother, perhaps I haven't made myself clear. I don't fancy girls, period. I'm a shirt-lifting, pillow-biting homosexual."

"Oh, dear." Narcissa fell into the nearest chair the colour draining from her face. A moment of seemingly impenetrable silence hung between them.

"Darling, can you get me the brandy?"

Draco sighed and made his way to the drinks tray in the corner and picked up a glass.

"No, dear, just bring the decanter."

Draco handed it to her and sat down next to her, watching as she gulped steadily. She turned to him, her breathing slightly laboured.

"So, how long have you known?" she whispered.

"For quite some time, actually."

"I _knew_ we shouldn't have let you go to Beauxbatons!" Narcissa wailed.

"No, Mother. I've known since Hogwarts."

"And, do you, er, have any --"

"Cissy, darling, have you seen my copy of Deadly Sins anywhere?" Lucius swept into the room to see his wife, white and shaking, downing the decanter of brandy as if the world had run out and their son looking at her wearily. "Draco, what has happened to your mother?"

"She's in a bit of a shock, Father," Draco replied.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. Very few things caused this kind of reaction from his wife. "Continue, please."

Narcissa took another large gulp of brandy. Lucius took it out of her hands and pulled her up.

"Perhaps you should go and have a nice warm bath, darling."

"Yes, perhaps." She walked quite unsteadily out of the room.

Draco stood up and went to the fireplace, not eager to prolong his visit. "I told her the real reason that I won't be thinking about marriage to Estelle, or anyone else for that matter."

"And that reason is?"

"I prefer men, Father. I'm gay." Draco picked up a handful of Floo Powder from the urn and stood in the fireplace. "Tell Mother I send my love."

Draco shouted his address and was gone once more in a whirl of green flames.

Harry, Ron, Tonks, Mayhew, Donahue and Grant sat at a table in a German pub, huge tankards of beer clutched in their hands, all grinning widely.

"Congratulations, team!" Mayhew said joyfully. "And a special merit to our newbies, Ron and Harry, for their admirable contribution to the mission, their bravery and their control. Not many first-timers are quite so adept in the field as you two are. I hope this is the first of many. Cheers, you lot, for a job well done!"

Harry and Ron beamed.

On Friday evening, Draco stepped off the lift at Harry's complex and walked down the corridor to his apartment. He knocked sharply on the door. If no one was home, it would be the last time he came back. He was finished after this. Leaning close to the door, he thought he heard music coming from inside. He stepped back and looked under the door to see a light coming from within the apartment. Draco's eyes narrowed and knocked heavily once again. The door swung open, and Harry stood before him wearing nothing but a blue towel around his waist. Their eyes locked for two abnormally long seconds.

"Nah!" Draco spun on his heel and turned to leave.

_Oh crap…_ Harry held onto his towel and went after him. He'd just been about to owl Draco to ask if it would be alright to meet up, so he could apologise.

"Draco, wait!"

"No, Potter. I'm finished."

Harry caught up, despite the constriction from his towel, and grabbed Draco's shoulder, spinning him around.

Draco rounded on him.

"Where the bloody fuck have you been?" he screamed.

"Draco…!"

"Y'know what? I don't fucking want to know!"

"But --"

"You could have at least have had the common decency to tell me you were leaving. I don't care about details, but for fuck's sake, Harry!"

"Draco…!"

"You could have been hurt! You could have been…!"

The words echoed in the hallway. _Killed, I know,_ Harry thought.

A door opened to his left.

"Are you alright, dears?" Mrs Timms had poked her head out of her apartment and was looking at the two of them with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Everything's fine," Harry snapped.

"No, it's bloody not," Draco hissed.

Harry sighed in resignation, his head bowed; he was close enough to Draco to feel the heat coming from his body. They stood for a few moments, breathing heavily.

"Look, I'm sorry. There wasn't much time to think when we got the order to leave, and I didn't want to risk sending an owl just in case we were being watched." He shrugged. "I'm sorry, Draco. I really am, but I guess I didn't really think you'd feel this way. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Well, I do." Draco chuckled quietly as Harry's quizzical eyes met his.

"Because, you stupid idiot," he paused, curling his lip at Harry's confused expression, "because I love you, alright?"

Harry's entire body melted; he was shocked that Draco wasn't siphoning him off the floor. _He loves me!_

With a jolt to his stomach, he noticed that he was becoming hard and that his towel was beginning to slip. He grabbed it and Draco and pulled him down the corridor into the apartment. He closed the door behind them and pushed Draco up against the door.

"Good," he whispered, delighting in the slight shudder from Draco, "because I love you too, alright?"

The towel fell around his feet as Harry pressed himself against Draco, and he melded their mouths together in a searing kiss. Draco could feel the fluttering in his belly as he devoured the sensation of Harry's tongue plundering the inside of his mouth, sweeping languidly across his own tongue.

Harry pushed Draco's chin up and began to kiss his throat and along his jaw, listening happily to Draco's hums of pleasure as he dropped kisses back down the column of his neck, his tongue darting out to taste the skin in the depression above Draco's breastbone. Harry pulled Draco's head down, bringing their lips together once again. Draco's fingers of one hand were in his hair, while the other gripped him tight around the waist, pulling Harry's hips towards his. Harry groaned low in his throat, feeling the hard outline of Draco's arousal pressed into him. He reached in between their bodies and pulled at the tab of Draco's belt, releasing it from the buckle. Dropping to his knees, he undid the button on Draco's pants and unzipped them; the bulge that appeared before him made his mouth water. He scraped his teeth along the soft skin of Draco's lower abdomen, eliciting a gravelly moan of desire and pulled the black briefs off his body.

With his pants and underwear around his ankles and Harry's hands gripping his arse, holding him firmly in place, Draco couldn't move. Then, his cock was enclosed in wet heat. His hips jerked forward convulsively; his need to be inside the velvety softness of Harry's mouth pushed all rational thought from his mind. He watched, his knees weak, as Harry pulled back and flicked at the sensitive head with his tongue and took him back in again.

Harry got to his feet, slipping his hands under Draco's t-shirt, lifting it up to his chest. His eyes fell upon the pale skin that he was touching, but he'd felt the ridges there before he saw them.

Four long, pale, slash-like scars were spread across his chest. His heart skipped several beats and he gasped, staggering backwards in shock, running his fingers through his hair unconsciously. Images of Draco's face and chest covered in blood as he collapsed on the flooded fifth floor bathroom tiles at Hogwarts shot through Harry's mind like poisonous darts.

Draco could no longer feel Harry's palpable energy and forcefulness. He opened his eyes to find Harry staring at him in horror.

"What's wrong?"

He then realised what Harry was staring at.

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered, over and over, horrified by the scars he had caused.

Draco reached out for Harry and pulled him closer.

"Harry, look at me."

Harry's eyes flashed from the past into the present as he stared at Draco in front of him.

"That was a different time; we were different people back then."

His eyes were wide with shock, but the spectacular green lit a fire in Draco. He brought their lips together once again.

Harry could feel the tenderness and forgiveness in Draco and it took his breath away. His cold hand was enclosed in Draco's very warm one, and he followed him into the bedroom.

They lay naked side by side, facing each other, both trying to control the furious trembling within that threatened to break through.

Harry reached across and brushed a lock of blond hair off of Draco's forehead and shifted himself closer so their noses touched. He could feel the solid heat of his penis against his stomach and shuddered. He kissed Draco's lips softly and pushed him onto his back, giving Harry access to his scarred chest. He stroked and kissed along the length of each scar, breathing his apology over the slightly damp skin, causing Draco's breath to catch in his throat as his skin glistened in the wake of Harry's tongue. Harry lay between his legs, and kissed all the way down to his navel, flicking his tongue into the depression.

Draco allowed his knees to be pushed apart, and then Harry's mouth was on his aching cock, hot and wet and absolutely perfect. He'd wanted this… waited for so long…

He felt Harry's hands firmly cupping his backside and moaned loudly when he took him in whole. His fingers found Harry's hair as his mouth created a blissful suction around him, moving slowly up and down his length.

Harry teased the head of Draco's cock with his tongue, smiling as he felt the grip on his hair tighten. He licked all the way down the swollen member once more before leaving his place between the muscular thighs; he wanted to explore every inch of Draco, discover anything and everything that pleased him. He lay flush against his lover, kissing him passionately, the wet heat of their mouths causing Harry's arousal to heighten, and his heart raced.

His right hand snaked down the side of Draco's body, tickling his ribcage, causing him to flinch slightly. With his left, he stroked the side of his face, his fingers running down the pale skin of his neck and coming to rest on his collarbone. He kissed along Draco's jaw, down to the hollows of his neck, allowing his tongue to dart out to taste the salty skin.

Draco tilted his head to the side, allowing Harry more room to deliver his soft kisses that, at the same time, burned his skin deliciously. He gasped in pain when Harry's teeth pinched the skin of his neck; his eyes closed when Harry apologised silently by running his tongue over the bite. He moved down so his face was once again level with Draco's chest.

Harry grabbed Draco's wrists and held them firmly to his sides as he began to trace his nipples with his tongue. Judging from the way Draco squirmed, this was the right thing to do. Foreplay wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. He stifled a whimper when he felt Draco's cock twitching against his belly. He released Draco's left hand and slipped his right down to wrap it around his lover's erection.

"I want you," he whispered. He reached across to the bedside table where he kept his bottle of lube. Capturing the beautiful pink lips again, Harry squeezed out a measure of the liquid into his palm. He took care not to stimulate himself too much, or he'd go over the edge too soon. He wanted Draco to feel him move within his body. He pushed gently against Draco's passage, allowing him to become used to the pressure and temperature of his fingers, before pushing any further.

Draco's face was contorted in concentration, his brain could only wrap around the incredibly filled feeling he was getting from Harry's fingers. But he wanted more. Harry seemed to sense this as he crooked his fingers and burrowed a little deeper, feeling for Draco's prostate. He inhaled sharply and let his breath out slowly when Harry hit it.

"Harry, come inside me," he whispered against Harry's lips.

Harry groaned out loud at the words. Plunging his tongue into Draco's mouth, he imitated exactly what he wanted to do to his more private regions; his cock ached with the desire to comply.

Harry slowly withdrew his fingers and lined himself up carefully. He kissed his lover's forehead and slowly entered him, hissing out his breath as the tight muscles absorbed him.

They connected almost immediately, finding a rhythm to their movements almost as naturally as they breathed. Draco rocked his hips upward as Harry thrust within him.

Harry pressed slow kisses into Draco's mouth, capturing his groans of pleasure, allowing Draco to swallow his own. He slid his thumb across the tip of the pulsing erection between them, spreading the pre-ejaculate fluid around the head with small circular motions. He gripped the turgid appendage once more in his hand and pumped his fist along the hot flesh. He felt Draco shiver beneath him and stiffen; his pale skin had turned a delicate shade of pink, and his eyes were squeezed shut.

"Not yet, love," Harry crooned, slowing the motion of his hand.

"Don't stop," Draco gasped, his fingers digging into Harry's back.

Harry's stomach clenched pleasantly to hear the pleading tone in his voice. "I won't."

He bent his head and licked along the shell of Draco's ear, pausing to nibble on the sensitive flesh at the lobe, his hips still pumping slowly. He sucked on Draco's neck, tasting the saltiness of his sweat, breathing in the scent that was purely his own, unmasked by the absence of his cologne. Harry groaned into his ear as he felt his completion drawing near. He began to move within Draco faster, the aching in his loins growing, his fist moving rapidly along his lover's cock. His breath came in short bursts of hot air against Draco's face, and he spilled himself inside the willing body beneath him.

Draco groaned his own release into Harry's neck, feeling the warm fluid pour out onto his stomach.

They were trembling again; Draco ran his fingers through Harry's damp locks, breathing deeply.

"Happy birthday to me," he muttered.

"What?" _Happy birthday?_

"We'll talk in the morning, Harry."

"Okay."

Harry reached out, rather unsteadily, for his wand on the bedside table. He muttered a cleaning spell and then turned out the lights. He wanted to talk and get this over with as soon as possible, but for now, he'd allow himself to fall asleep in Draco's arms.

Draco woke pleasantly the next morning; he'd been dreaming of Harry's mouth, the colour of his lips and the taste of his tongue, how beautiful it was, especially wrapped around his cock. He'd opened his eyes to find Harry doing exactly that. He stretched out on his back, moaning slightly while Harry's tongue did wonderful things to the underside of his penis. He dropped his hand to the dark hair, running his fingers through its silky softness. Harry looked up at him, and his heart skipped a beat; really, those eyes and that mouth shouldn't be allowed.

"I thought you'd never wake up," Harry said, feathering kisses across Draco's lower abdomen, his thumbs stroking the sharply jutting hipbones.

"Oh, I'm up."

"I see that." Harry's tongue swiped across the tip of his cock, humming in pleasure at his taste, before dropping his head and taking Draco in.

"You have the most perfect mouth," Draco whispered, his fingers back in Harry's hair. He sighed when Harry hummed around him. "Do that again."

Alternately humming and stroking with his tongue, Harry brought Draco quickly over the brink. He stretched out on top of his lover, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes.

"Good morning," Harry said, kissing the soft flesh of Draco's neck.

Draco stretched and grinned at Harry. "What a lovely one it is, too."

Harry reached for his wand on the bedside table and pointed it in his mouth. Nifty little charm, that breath-freshening one was.

"Open up, I want your mouth," he said.

Draco obediently opened his mouth for Harry, who cast his spell.

Harry took his time with the kiss. He ghosted softly across Draco's full lips with his breath, before using the tip of his tongue to part them. He circled the insides of Draco's lips slowly, revelling in the wet silkiness and then drew his tongue across his teeth.

Draco's hand snaked up to the back of Harry's head, gently pulling him down, dying for him to make their kiss deeper; but Harry politely refused, and his tongue continued to weave intricate patterns over every centimetre of Draco's mouth. When Harry finally allowed his tongue to pass his teeth, the effect was so blissful that Draco was only mildly surprised he'd become as hard as rock again.

Harry watched him and smiled; he began inching down the bed, his fingers running down the length of Draco's body until he came to the dark blond hair at his groin. Then, he winked at Draco and got up and went into the bathroom without a backward glance, leaving the door open a crack.

Draco shot a disgusted look at the door. _Prat._ He got out of bed, groaning slightly at the aches in his lower body, and looked around for his clothes that had been scattered on the floor the night before. He folded them up neatly and placed them on the bed before admitting himself into Harry's bathroom.

Steam was rising from within the shower-stall, Harry's pale skin visible behind the translucent sliding door. Draco's original idea had been to go in, empty his bladder and go back out and get dressed, but seeing Harry wet and naked so close before him had struck up a different concept.

Magically clearing the toilet so Harry wouldn't know he was there, he carefully slid open the door and stepped inside the shower. Harry's back was to him as he washed his face. Draco admired for a moment, the muscles that rippled across Harry's back, and then dropped his gaze to the curves of his arse, just a shade or two lighter than the rest of his body. He could feel himself getting hard once again. He knelt down behind Harry and pulled him back, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of Harry's backside. He tried to jump away, but Draco held on to him tightly.

"Fuck! That hurts!" Harry was yelling at Draco, spluttering under the spray of the shower.

Draco grinned and stood up, pulling Harry to him, his skin hot and wet.

"I know. But that's what you get for leaving Draco Malfoy in such a condition, on purpose." He kissed the back of Harry's neck. "May the bruise you receive serve as a reminder."

"You suck."

"I know that, too. Care to sample?"

"Oooh, you're dirty," Harry said. He turned and pushed Draco under the hot water, grabbing the bar of soap from the dish and lathering his hands. "Shall we start with the dirtiest bit?"

"Yes, and that would be you." Draco grabbed Harry's shoulders and pushed him against the wall of the shower. With one hand, he lifted Harry's left knee, with the other, he brought his fingers up to Harry's mouth and slid them inside, coating them with saliva. Dropping his hand, he reached up between Harry's legs and found his passage, carefully sliding his slick fingers inside. He lifted his knee up higher, pushing it further back against the wall while Harry clung to him for balance, his eyelids heavy with arousal, his breath ragged. Draco pushed in and out of Harry, scissoring his fingers to stretch him.

"Please," Harry whimpered, his fingernails clawing at Draco's back.

"Please, what?"

"Do it."

Draco stopped his ministrations and watched Harry with a thoughtful expression.

"Hmm, no, I don't think I will." He dropped Harry's knee, turned around and picked up the soap.

Harry watched him in horror. Then, he noticed, for the first time, a tattoo of a serpentine dragon just above the protruding bone of Draco's neck. The Sorting Hat clearly knew what it was talking about eleven years ago when it tried to place him in Slytherin house. Harry was going to prove that.

_"That's not fair,"_ he said, smiling to hear the hissing that flowed from his lips.

Draco froze and dropped the soap. Had Harry just-?

_"Shall I bend over and get that for you?" _Harry moved forward and wrapped his arms around Draco's body and squeezed him tightly, his lips against his ear. _"Do you want me, Draco?"_

Draco shuddered violently, his knees threatening to buckle. Harry was speaking to him in Parseltongue. _Oh, my_ God! He spun around rapidly, slamming Harry against the wall again.

Adrenaline pumped through his body with his arousal; he lifted Harry up, groaning when his legs wrapped around him. He took his aching cock in his hand and thrust himself deep into Harry.

"Talk to me, Harry," he growled.

_"Who knew you were so kinky? Did you get all hot and bothered the first time you heard me speak?"_

Draco moaned into Harry's neck and began to move in and out of him, listening to Harry hiss in his ear.

_"You feel so good, Draco. I'm going to make you come, hard and hot, inside me."_

Draco felt Harry's muscles clench around him and bit his lip to keep himself from crying out.

Harry reached between them, and began to stroke his own cock, smiling when Draco's eyes dropped and his mouth opened in surprise.

_"Do you like to watch? Maybe I'll let you watch me all by myself while you sit with your hands tied behind your back." _

Madly excited by the idea, Harry began to fist himself faster, spurring Draco on to do the same. He screamed out Draco's name as he came all over his chest. His mouth was captured in a bruising kiss, and his eyes rolled back into his head as, with one last delicious stroke against his prostate, Draco released his fluids into him.

Minutes passed by before they were able to get themselves together, each afraid of a total collapse if they dared to move. Draco put Harry back on his feet and wrapped his arms around his shaking body, feeling his heart still racing against his chest.

"Wow," Harry whispered.

"I know." Draco placed a finger under Harry's chin and tilted his head upwards, almost losing himself within the deep, green pools. He claimed the perfect lips, thinking how much he would love to be able kiss Harry every day for the rest of his life.

Harry smiled at him, the just-shagged look very plain in his eyes, and moved around him back under the shower.

Draco watched him and his heart ached. When, in the last five minutes, had he fallen even more in love with Harry than he had been five minutes before? He chuckled to himself self-deprecatingly. _Oh, Malfoy, you've got it SO bad!_


	8. Discussions

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.**

Harry and Draco were dressed and eating breakfast in the kitchen when there was a tremendous banging at the door, followed by the unmistakable sound of Ron Weasley, swearing under his breath.

"Harry, what's your towel doing bunched up under the door?" He entered the kitchen, Harry's blue towel in his hand. "Hey, Malfoy," he added.

Harry and Draco shot each other embarrassed glances.

Ron looked back and forth between them before an expression of realisation crossed his features.

Harry watched his ears turn pink and he grinned. "Sorry," he said.

Ron shook his head, muttering, "I don't want to know," and sat down, helping himself to some orange juice.

"Listen, Harry," Ron's ears had become a deeper shade of pink, "Hermione wants me to go with her and her mum to this wedding planner bloke today to book our venue and start picking out colours et cetera. I'm not thrilled, but apparently I need to take on this 'doting husband-to-be' responsibility sooner than I thought."

"You poor soul," Harry said dryly. "Does this mean I have to get groceries this week?"

"Please?"

"Yeah, no worries mate; I'm going to have to do it by myself in a few months anyway."

"I'll go with you," Draco said. "I don't have much planned today."

Harry smiled at him in gratitude. He didn't hate grocery shopping, but it would be nice to have someone to talk to while rolling up and down the aisles. Nor was he especially keen to watch Draco leave since their reconciliation. He supposed they should talk about what had happened in the last week, too.

They walked slowly along the dairy aisle, picking up cheese, milk and cherry flavoured yogurt. Draco pushed the cart while Harry collected and checked off items on the list.

They began to speak at the same time.

"So, Har –"

"Draco, I –"

Laughing, Draco gestured for Harry to continue.

"I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for leaving and not telling you. I lost my cool in all the excitement, and by the time I remembered, it was too late to do anything."

"Apology accepted. Just, you know, don't let it happen again, alright? I don't like being worried sick," Draco said. "I'll forgive you this one time, Harry, but you've no excuse next time, alright?"

"Alright. Now I've got a question for you."

"Yes?"

"What were you on about with your 'happy birthday to me' comment last night?"

"Oh, that. Well, it's not big deal, really. My birthday was last Thursday and –"

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think about it. Anyway, such as it was, I didn't have a great birthday, so I sort of took last night as my birthday present," Draco said, pushing the shopping cart along.

"Now I feel even worse," Harry said, hanging his head.

Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm in comfort. "Trust me; celebrating my birthday was the least of my worries. I haven't told you the best part yet."

Harry looked up, his eyebrow raised. "There's more?"

"Oh, yes. I had dinner at my parents' house, and they took the liberty of inviting a few friends over for the festivities. Mr and Mrs Louis de Chassole and their daughter, Estelle, have been good family friends for years; Estelle and I went to Beauxbatons together, and she was one of the first people I told that I was gay. However, since neither set of our parents know that I'm a shirt-lifter, they're constantly trying to convince the two of us to get married. Needless to say, Thursday night was a prime time for the jabs. Usually, Estelle and I find it all highly amusing, but since I was in such a bad mood, the humour was lost on me."

"Did I mention that I was sorry?" Harry said, the corner of his mouth quirking.

"Clearly you missed the memo that I've forgiven you. Anyway, such was my ire and exasperation by the end of the night, all sensible thought was erased from my conscious, and I came out to my parents. Do you need any of this cheese?" Draco leaned over and picked up a large block of sharp cheddar.

"You didn't!"

Draco had once told Harry that his father would probably fall down dead if he ever found out. Draco had to have been in a right state for him to say anything to his parents without any kind of warning.

"I did. Mother drank nearly the entire brandy decanter before Father could take it from her. Then, I told him seconds before I went back home. I haven't heard anything from them since."

"Oh, Draco." Harry had never liked Lucius Malfoy, former Death Eater or not, but he knew Draco, at least, still valued his father's opinions of him.

"Not much I can do about it, really."

"I know, but it's got to be a bit discomfiting. They're your family," Harry said.

"Don't worry about it, Harry, I'm fine," Draco said, smiling slightly. To distract them both, he grabbed the shopping list from Harry's hand and read through it. "What on earth are 'Jammy Dodgers'?"

Draco stopped the cart while Harry picked up a head of lettuce from the fresh produce section, and looked around at the other greens on the shelves. He spotted a very large cucumber and picked it up, holding it vertically, stroking it with his fingers, trying not to laugh.

"Hey, Potter, how does this compare?"

Harry turned towards him and burst into laughter. "Well, at least it's green." He grabbed the cucumber from Draco and picked up two tomatoes. "That's better, innit?"

They both snorted with laughter. Two older ladies, picking out some fruit nearby, shot disgusted looks at the two of them, only serving to increase their mirth.

Harry got a plastic bag and put their creation into it. "The least we can do is to take them home for dinner."

"Brilliant idea," Draco said. He ran his finger down the front of the black t-shirt Harry was wearing, stopping at the waistband of his khaki-coloured pants. "Can I have you for dessert?"

The ladies were whispering behind their hands now, frowning.

"Let's hurry up here, shall we? The ice-cream is going to melt," he muttered. Draco was looking at him with the same predatory gaze he'd used that morning, and Harry's trousers were growing a little bit tighter.

"Whatever you say, darling," Draco sang, pushed the cart along, smiling at the ladies as he passed.

They dropped the bags of groceries on the floor as soon as they walked into the apartment, the melting ice-cream totally forgotten.

Draco lunged at Harry, pinning him against the kitchen counter with his body, pressing his burgeoning erection into his hip as he kissed him fiercely. There was no softness about this kiss; their tongues battled against the other's, teeth clicking together, their lips caught somewhere in between. Draco pushed Harry's black t-shirt up to his neck, running his hands over his chest, palming his nipples before dropping his head to Harry's neck.

"You're so hot," he whispered as he kissed along the soft flesh, his fingers dropping to the button at the top of Harry's pants, feeling the tip of his hardness grazing his hands. He worked at the zipper, brushing Harry with his fingertips. "I'm going to fuck you, Harry, right here against the counter. You're going to turn around and –"

Suddenly, Harry heard voices and the sound of a key in the doorknob. _Fuck!_

"They're back." He pushed Draco away and buttoned up his pants.

Draco yanked out his wand from his pocket and began levitating bags to the kitchen table, and not a moment to soon for in walked Ron, Hermione and another woman who had to be Hermione's mother.

Harry had opened the freezer section of the fridge and stuck his head in, trying desperately to cool off.

Draco was dying to laugh, but he managed to keep a straight face and began pulling things out of the bags and handing them to Harry, who was still buried in the freezer. Ron and Hermione regarded them suspiciously for a moment, and then Hermione introduced him to her mother, Kathryn.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs Granger," Draco said politely.

They made small talk while Harry and Ron took over putting away the groceries, both a little bit surprised that Draco could be so charming, especially to a Muggle.

"Ron, could you join us in the living room, please?" Hermione said eventually.

Ron paused in the unpacking of some Marks and Spencer frozen dinners and made a face to Harry. He muttered something under his breath that Harry didn't catch and followed Hermione's mother.

"Well, that was close," Harry said once the others were safely out of earshot.

"I vote that we stay at the Manor tonight; no one barges into my kitchen unannounced."

"A very good plan."

Harry stood in the doorway of the kitchen at Malfoy Manor and watched as Draco spelled the plates and glasses they'd used at dinner sparkling clean, and levitated them back into their cupboards. He licked his lips when Draco raised his arms in a stretch, and his flat belly was exposed beneath his t-shirt. His heart skipped a beat when he turned and swept his stormy grey eyes over Harry and smiled. Draco moved panther-like towards Harry and leaned in towards him, his arm resting on the doorframe above Harry's head.

"How do you manage to look so stunning by just standing?" Draco said huskily.

Feeling very much the schoolgirl moments before her first kiss with the sexy seventh year Quidditch star, (and liking it), Harry leaned back against the doorframe, propping his foot up behind him.

"I dunno, special talent I guess," he replied, shrugging.

Draco reached up and played with the ends of Harry's hair near his face, watching the green eyes sparkle with mischief.

"Got any more special talents you're willing to share with me?"

"Maybe."

"Yeah?"

Harry's answer was in the form of a pleasured sigh as Draco leaned in further and kissed him, his lips warm and tasting of wine. He was reminded of their first kiss and savoured a small moment of triumph that he'd be able to have Draco _this_ time. Harry began to slide his hands under Draco's t-shirt, but his hands were batted away gently.

_Oh, for God's sake!_ Harry opened his mouth to protest.

"Not here," Draco said. He took out his wand and waved it around the kitchen so all of the lights went out, save for three lamps that lit the staircase behind them. Draco reached for Harry's hand and began to lead him up the stairs.

"I seem to remember a certain someone fully intent on shagging in the kitchen just this afternoon. I wonder what happened to him," Harry said.

"Well, don't you think that that idea was better suited to the environment? We knew we could easily get walked in on, therefore it was more exciting, wasn't it?"

"Yes, there was that."

Draco led him along the landing to the last room down the corridor. He muttered something Harry couldn't hear, and the door swung open to admit them into the dark room. He gestured for Harry to go first and closed the door behind them.

The moon cast soft silvery light on the dark wood floor through the window, soon joined by the flickering light from a few candles that sprung to life from brackets on the wall. Draco could see Harry's outline before him, and took a step forward so he stood directly behind him. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as the mixture of detergent, cologne and a faint trace of shampoo appealed to his sense of smell. It was so _Harry._ He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and let his fingers and palms trail softly down Harry's arms while he dipped his head and pressed his lips into the curve of Harry's neck.

Harry shivered when Draco breathed out against his skin; the soft caress of his lips moved up to his ear and his fingers found Harry's. He lifted Harry's arms up over his head.

"Hold your arms up for me," Draco whispered. He slid his hands back down Harry's arms and down his torso, lifting the hem of Harry's shirt and pushing it up slowly, allowing his fingertips to graze the skin. Goosebumps formed on Harry's body while a delicious heat pooled in his groin as Draco pulled the t-shirt over his head, still standing behind him.

Draco tossed Harry's garment to the side and moved to face him. He tried to keep his face impassive, but the sight of Harry's half-naked body, though shadowed, made him chew on his lower lip and his stomach flutter.

Harry noticed the subtle signs and smiled; he took a step forward so that he was chest to chest with Draco. He could feel his increased heart rate, as well as his erection which brushed against his hip. His hands returned to the bottom of Draco's t-shirt, and he began to pull it up.

"I suppose I'm allowed to undress you here?" Harry joked.

"Yes," Draco rasped, raising his arms as Harry took his shirt off and let it fall to the floor. He flinched when he felt Harry's fingertips move down his ribs, barely touching the skin, and came to rest on the front of his pants. He watched as the fingers deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his clothing, pushing the garment off his body, and relieving some of the pressure that had built up by its confinement. Draco stepped out of the material at his feet and flicked his eyes back up to Harry's face.

Harry took a small step backward and slowly removed his own trousers, kicking them gently to the side. His eyes raked his lover's body in the soft moonlight, taking in the slender figure and the pale expanse of skin, marred only by the underwear he still wore.

_Not for long…_ Harry inclined his head to Draco's bed, grinning inwardly. It was going to be nice making love in such a big bed.

"Lie on your back," he instructed.

Draco walked backward toward his bed and sat down when the backs of his thighs hit the mattress. He moved further onto the bed and lay back on the pillows.

Harry approached him and shed his last article of clothing. He climbed onto the bed with Draco, kneeling between his parted legs. He enjoyed a furious fuck against the wall or the kitchen counter as much as the next bloke, but there was a little extra magic when there was no hurry, and he could take as much time as he wanted to tease, taste and feel his lover. He slid his fingertips up the pale thighs and took hold of the elastic securing the briefs to his lover's body and pulled down. Licking his lips at the sight of his lover's arousal, hard against his belly, Harry decided that it was well worth the wait for the little extra magic.

_Tap! Tap! Tap! _

Draco groaned and rolled over.

_Tap! Tap! Tap! _

He felt Harry stir behind him.

_Tap! Tap! Tap! _

Swearing under his breath, Draco opened his eyes. Morning sunlight was streaming through the windowpane, making him squint. But there wasn't only sunlight staring him in the face. A large eagle owl was perched outside the window, tapping impatiently on the glass. With great effort, Draco uncovered himself and left the warmth of his bed and his lover. He tiptoed across the room and opened the window. The owl hopped in and held out its leg for him to remove the attached scroll. It looked at his naked body and turned away with a dignified sort of hoot.

"Oh, shut up. We haven't all got feathers to cover up with," Draco whispered angrily. He unfurled the scroll and began to read.

_Dear Draco,_

_I hope this note finds you well and in good time. Your father and I wish to remind you that lunch will be served on Sunday at one o' clock at Villa Malfoy, and we are expecting you to attend. If you have made other plans, we will understand, though I think it important that we all talk about your confession soon. Please owl us your reply as soon as possible._

_Love,_

_Mother_

Well that cleared things up. Draco sighed and re-read his mother's note before going over to the writing desk and picking up a quill and a piece of parchment.

_Mother,_

_I will be at the house as requested, today for lunch. Give my regards to Father._

_Draco_

He rolled up his parchment and sealed it, sending it back off with the eagle owl, who was still avoiding looking at him.

"Discrimination will get you nowhere," Draco muttered as he watched the owl fly off with his answer.

He turned back to his bed and watched as Harry slept, his chest rising and falling placidly as he breathed, his long, dark eyelashes shadowing his cheeks, lips slightly parted. _Pretty boy,_ Draco thought with a smile. He got back into bed and covered himself up again, curling his body, now slightly chilled, around Harry's very warm one. He placed his head on Harry's chest and listened to his heart beating slowly in his body. It felt good to just lie with Harry and not have to think about much. He wasn't looking forward to explaining to his parents why he had kept his choice of lifestyle from them for so long, and he was happy to put off thinking about it for a few more hours. He closed his eyes and drifted back into a doze.

Draco got out of his parents' fireplace and dusted himself off. Both of his parents stood up to greet him. His mother was smiling a little bit sadly at him, but she moved forward to envelop him in her arms. He and his father shook hands, and the three made their way into the dining room. _Well, at least they're being reasonable… so far._

Halfway through their dessert, the real conversation began.

"You know, Draco, I can't truthfully say that I was completely shocked by what you told me on Thursday," Lucius said.

Both Narcissa and Draco looked at him incredulously.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Narcissa said.

"Well, he's twenty-three years old, and never once has he brought a young lady home for us to meet. So I thought, surely he can't be ashamed of his family, and there was something else behind it; perhaps he was in fact, ashamed of himself."

"I am not ashamed of myself!" Draco exploded.

"But yet it took you this long to decide to tell us, and only after you'd been provoked into anger at us for trying to make your future easier?"

"Oh, yeah, it would be a hell of a lot easier to make me do something I could never be happy doing," Draco said sarcastically.

"Draco, please watch your tone at the table," Narcissa reprimanded.

"Son, I'm not saying that this kind of thing doesn't happen to even the best of people; when you're in boarding school and your selection is limited, your mind plays tricks on you. I understand; it happened to quite a few of my housemates while I was at Hogwarts, but _you_ need to understand that you cannot fail to uphold this family's name."

"This is precisely why I didn't say anything to you before. And in case you've forgotten, _Father,_ the Malfoy name has been sullied by your own choices," Draco snapped. "My sexual preference has nothing to do with it."

He could see his father trying desperately to control his temper, knowing that there was no way he could get Draco to agree to anything if he lost it.

"I admit to you, as I have done several times before, that I have made less than honourable decisions for our family. But that does not mean I want the same for you and your own future family. I'm trying to explain to you that the choices that you make now will affect you later in life. Do you really want to have to swallow bitter regret?"

"Regret for what? I'm happy with my life, Father, if you haven't realised."

"Draco, we only want the best for you," Narcissa interjected soothingly. "Please just listen to what he has to say."

"You mean listen to him tell me that my choices in life aren't good enough, as usual? When his were far worse for us than mine? I'm sick of it! Don't you even care if I'm happy or not?"

"Darling, of course we care about your happiness, we're just trying to impress upon you that some things have to be temporarily sacrificed in order to make a good future for yourself," Narcissa said.

"And what if my idea of a good future is completely different to yours?"

"You are young, Draco, there are things that, in time, you will come to understand. People know your face, son. We can't afford to have another scandal placed upon this family."

"What scandal? You act like there are paparazzi teeming outside my house waiting for a glimpse of me. It's not like I'm the Minister for Magic." _Thank Merlin._

"If you keep your nose clean now, you could be."

Draco gave a mirthless bark of laughter.

"I would prefer to live the rest of my life as a Muggle than to be the Minister for Magic," he said.

"You know what? Fine. Openly express yourself in any way you feel necessary, son, just don't think to come crying to me when it blows up in your face."

Draco and Lucius glared at each other, identical cold, grey eyes flashing.

"May I be excused?" Draco said.

Narcissa nodded, and he got up and stormed out of the dining room, flinging the doors open to the gardens outside. He dug deep in the pockets of his robes and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He had envisioned the day going like this and he'd arrived prepared. Draco didn't smoke as often as he used to anymore, but under times of great pressure, he found it helpful. He lit a cigarette with his wand and inhaled deeply. Was it really so hard for his parents to be proud of him, just once? It wasn't as though he was some layabout; he had a respectable, very well-paying job, he had friends, he got out of the house for leisure time.

He took another pull on his cigarette. Why couldn't he have had a brother or four to take this burden from him? He used to love being an only child when he was young, but now he'd kill for a few siblings to help him out. That was what siblings did, right? They made sure there was a healthy rivalry, and if one just so happened to be gay, there would be others to take up the slack.

"Fuck it," Draco muttered. He couldn't deal with this. He never should have gotten out of bed. If he hadn't, he and Harry could be doing something completely normal like taking a swim in the pool at the Manor and talking about how nice it was to be lazy on a Sunday, instead of standing alone in Villa Malfoy, smoking a cigarette and feeling sorry for himself. Vanishing his cigarette, Draco went back inside the house to say goodbye to his parents before things got too nasty.

"Mother, I'm going now. I'll owl you about next week," Draco said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.

"Please think about what your father said. I know this is hard for you, but we're only looking out for your well-being."

"My being was very well until I made the mistake to open my mouth," Draco said bitterly, encountering a reproving look from Narcissa.

Lucius was nowhere in sight.

"Tell him I've left, will you?"

"Of course. We love you, Draco; please don't forget that."

"I love you too, Mum. I'll talk to you soon." Draco collected a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, stepping into the warm flames that returned him to England.


	9. Changes

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.**

"Draco, could you please stop bitching about him? I _know_ he's being a complete idiot, but it's been almost three weeks!"

"I'm sorry, I just need to vent."

"No, venting is what I endured last week. This is you being extraordinarily pissy, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop. You can't expect them to come to terms with that bomb you dropped on them immediately; just give it some time."

"He wanted me to go into politics! Can you imagine?"

"I'm not going to speak to you anymore if you don't shut up."

"And she expects me to listen to him as though I'm some helpless child!"

"Draco, will you suck my cock now?"

"All because I was honest, even if – what?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He wondered if Draco would ever stop complaining about his parents. _At least if his mouth were full, he'd stop talking,_ Harry thought wryly.

The lift stopped at the second level of the Ministry and the golden grilles began to open. Harry leaned over and kissed Draco quickly on the cheek.

"I'll see you later."

"Come and get me for lunch, okay?"

"Okay." _As long as you keep eating, we'll be fine._

Draco waved at Harry as the grilles closed again and took him to the next level.

Ron was waiting for him in his cubicle, a look of boyish excitement plain on his face.

"Hey. So, while you were with the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Stop-Complaining, we settled on a date," he said as Harry sat down.

"A date for wha – oh, right! The wedding!"

Ron gave him a reproving look. "Yes, Harry, the wedding. Anyway, it's the twenty-fifth of October."

"Hmm, the twenty-fifth of October. I dunno if I'll be available then," Harry said.

"Who says you're even invited?"

They laughed.

"Now, Mum has insisted that I carry everything out in the appropriate manner, so even though I know this has been assumed for ages, will you, Harry Potter, be the best man at my wedding?" Ron batted his eyelashes at Harry.

"Oh, Ronald! I thought you'd never ask!"

"Thanks, Harry, you're a real chum." Ron winked at him and went back to his cubicle.

Harry began to sort through the files on his desk, placing them into their respective piles before he started working on them. He'd only ever been to one wedding before, and he'd certainly never been _in_ a wedding.

"Oi, Ron, what exactly is a best man supposed to do? Other than stand next to the groom and look pretty."

"Well, from what I've been told by my dear brothers, the best man is supposed to convince the groom not to run away screaming, and he should be the one man in the room that's never slept with the bride."

"Got that one covered. What about sleeping with the groom?"

"Eew," Ron said delicately.

"Awww, you've hurt my feelings, baby. Don't you think we owe it to ourselves to have one night of passion before you get married?"

"Harry!"

Harry burst into laughter, and Ron soon joined in.

"Malfoy's had a bad influence on you, mate," he said.

"I wouldn't doubt it. So how are all the other wedding plans coming along?"

"Pretty good, actually. It's not as hard as I thought it would be, mixing a Muggle and Wizarding wedding. Hermione's asked a friend of hers to help us out with the Bonding Ceremony; they've worked out a few charms so that the Muggles won't be able to see the Bonder and the pretty light show that goes with it."

"That's clever, but they'll certainly feel the magic, which will be a nice touch."

"That's what Hermione said."

Harry smiled and opened up his first set of filing folders and began reading the report inside. He was so happy for his friends; it seemed like just the other day they were back at Hogwarts and Ron and Hermione were snapping at each other's throats. _Funny how you're always mean to the ones you love._

"Are you going to be at home after work?" Ron asked as they left the office to collect their respective partners for lunch.

"I should be. Why?"

"We need to talk about what we're going to do with the apartment once I'm married."

"Oh." Harry hadn't thought about _that_. The lift stopped at the third level.

"Yeah," Ron said, looking a little bit wistful. "I'll see you later, then."

"Bye."

Harry walked slowly to the end of the corridor where the Potions labs were. The idea of not living with Ron in a few short months had depressed him, and he really didn't want to listen to Draco bitch about his parents anymore. He suddenly wasn't very hungry, either. He knocked on the door to the lab and waited. He didn't really need a two-bedroom flat if he was going to be living by himself. He didn't want to get a new flatmate; even though he and Ron shared the rent, it wasn't as though Harry couldn't afford their flat on his own, but he still didn't want to waste the space. The only other option was to get a one-bedroom, or maybe a loft. But he would miss Ron's company more than he could bear to think about.

Harry was startled when the door opened and Draco appeared.

"Hey, come in for a moment; I'm almost finished," he said.

Harry nodded to Tracey and went to sit at Draco's desk to wait. A loft would be nice, but the complex in which he and Ron currently lived didn't have any available. He'd have to ask the Wizarding real-estate agents across town for some options.

"You're awfully quiet, Harry. Anything wrong?" Draco said as he washed his hands.

"Not wrong, really, just depressing. Ron and Hermione have set a wedding date, which means that before too long, I have to find a new place to live."

"What's wrong with your flat?" Draco asked.

"Nothing, I just don't need the extra bedroom. I'd rather use the space for something more useful. Plus the fact that Ron and I have shared living space since we were eleven, I guess it's just occurred to me that I'm going to miss him."

"Oh, Harry, try not to be so homosexual. Just find a new place to live."

They left the lab and went back to the lifts.

"It's not that easy. But I'd better start looking."

"When's the wedding anyway?"

"Twenty-fifth of October," Harry replied.

"Wow. Not wasting any time, are they?"

"Hermione Jane Granger has never wasted a minute of her time on this earth," Harry said, grinning.

Draco smirked. "Something, according to my bloody father, I have yet to achieve. As if he thinks making Potions all day is insufficient!"

_Oh, God!_ Harry closed his eyes in annoyance and wondered idly whether Draco would shut up if he punched him hard enough in the gut.

Ron and Harry sat at their kitchen table two weeks later, copies of the lease on their apartment in front of them.

"So the lease is up on the thirtieth of October, you don't want a new flatmate, and after having checked around, nothing suitable will be available for you until the end of November. Why do you make life difficult?"

"Ron, give me a break. What on earth am I supposed to do with two bedrooms that I can't even convert into something useful?"

"Get over yourself and find a new flatmate."

"No."

"Harry, I'm thinking once again that Malfoy's had a bad influence on you."

"I'm not about to live with some stranger, Ron. I've practically lived with you for twelve years, you can't expect me to just accept some new person just like that. Besides, everyone we know that's our age is either married or living by themselves. I don't think it's too much for me to do the same."

"But Harry, you _can't_ live by yourself until you've got somewhere _to_ live."

"But Ron, what am I supposed to do until _then?_ I can't just renew the lease for a month."

They glared at each other across the table.

_What a mess!_ The depression Harry had been feeling since he'd begun thinking about not having Ron around anymore had dissipated; now he was annoyed. He knew he couldn't blame Ron and Hermione for timing their wedding date with the expiration of the lease on their flat, but it was a _bit_ of an inconvenience for Harry, not having anywhere to live for a month and all.

"Harry, I'm really sorry, you know I am. But you know what my plans are. It's up to you now," Ron said apologetically.

"As usual," Harry muttered.

"And now _you're_ being impossible. Perhaps I'm marrying the wrong woman," Ron said pointedly, the scorn clear in his voice.

Harry's mouth dropped open. _Oh! Oh! He did_ not_ just call me a woman!_

Ron continued to glare at him, his ears bright red.

"Maybe I'd better just move out now and save you the trouble of deciding," Harry said icily.

"Don't be so fucking stupid," Ron snapped.

"Then don't push my buttons!"

Harry stormed out of the kitchen in a whirl of robes that would have made Severus Snape proud. He slammed his bedroom door so hard his bedside lamp capsized onto his bed. Swearing, Harry turned to the wall, barely feeling the pain as his fist connected with the concrete.

It was only later when he'd eventually calmed down that he noticed the blood.

Things were very stiff and uncomfortable between Harry and Ron over the days that followed the argument. Neither wanted to apologise (since they were both right in their own respect), but it was becoming almost unbearable to be together in the apartment when they weren't talking to each other. Ron spent most of his time with Hermione and their respective mothers, planning the wedding, so when he came home he was already irritated, making it much more difficult for him and Harry to even begin to mend things. It was beginning to take a toll on their work.

"Weasley! What the fuck was that?"

Ron pulled off his mask and cloak, looking daggers at Harry.

"I'm sorry, sir, but _Potter_ was in my way!"

"I was _not_ in your way! And how hard is it to aim a fucking curse over my shoulder?"

"That's not the bloody point! Stay the fuck out of my way!"

"FINE!"

Harry tore off his battle gear and stormed out of the Training Room. He burned with anger; if Ron continued to mess their field practices up, they'd be sitting with desk jobs before long – something Harry could not bear to face. It was the third time that week he and Ron had been out in the Training Room, practicing with Mayhew and Tonks, and each time had ended in disaster; had they been out in the real world, someone would have been killed for sure. And it would have been his and Ron's fault.

Hurling his cloak and mask on the ground in the Equipment Room, Harry burst into the large gymnasium on the opposite side of the Training Room. Thankfully, it was still empty. He needed to blow off some steam in the weight room.

"Harry?"

"What?" Harry snapped through gritted teeth.

"Harry, for Merlin's sake! You're going to hurt yourself." Tonks raised her wand and pulled the fifty-pound weight from Harry's grip and sat next to him on the bench. "What's going on with you and Ron?"

"Nothing's going on with me and Ron. And what's it to you anyway?" _Oof… stupid question, Harry._

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "I trust by the look on your face that you realise what you've just said. Look, I know there's something going on between you two, but please, please sort it out soon. You've got potential, Harry. I saw it from the first day I met you. I don't want you to lose your chance," she said. She tapped him on the back and left Harry with the weight of her words.

Draco looked at Harry across the table during dinner at the Manor that night, noting the miserable look on his face as he picked at his food.

"Harry, are you okay? You haven't been yourself all week," Draco said, reaching over to take Harry's hand. Harry looked up at him with bruised green eyes and sighed sadly.

"Ron and I had a fight last week, and well, it hasn't been resolved. Now my job is in danger."

"Oh," said Draco, a little bit hurt that Harry had kept this piece of information from him for so long. "Well, what did you fight about?"

"The flat," Harry said. "Ron thinks that I'm being stupid about not getting a new flatmate or just living there by myself until whenever. Maybe I'm being a little bit picky, I dunno, but he made me feel really awful about the whole thing, and I got angry, punched the wall, and we haven't spoken since."

"I don't think you're being picky. If it were me I'd want my own space too, and I guess I can understand why you wouldn't want the two rooms – You know, seeing as I have eight extra ones myself, I really shouldn't talk, but I know what you mean just the same." Harry smiled. "Now, about your job, what's going on there?"

"Since Ron and I had the fight, we haven't exactly been a team during field practice, and well, had we been out actually working, someone could have been killed due to the mistakes we made," Harry said quietly.

"Oh, that's bad. Don't you think it's time to stop fighting? You don't _really_ want to lose your job due to a stupid fight, do you?"

"No, I don't. But I don't know what to say to him. I just think I'm being a bit petulant about it. I mean, I don't _have_ to move out, I just don't want to be… stagnant… you know?"

Draco nodded. "That's perfectly understandable; Ron is moving on with his life, it's only fair that you should be given the choice to do the same. Living arrangements just happen to be a large chip off your broomstick, so to speak."

"Too right."

Draco looked thoughtfully at Harry. _My poor baby._

"Do you want dessert, or shall I just clear this up?"

Harry shook his head. "Go ahead, I'm finished." He got up from the table with his plate, and Draco noticed him wince.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, taking the plate from Harry.

"No, I'm fine. I did some work in the weight room this afternoon; I think I overdid it a little."

Rolling his eyes, Draco took out his wand, charmed the plates and dishes clean, and placed them back in the cupboards. "Come on, you. I'm going to give you a massage; I think you deserve some pampering."

Harry smiled and leaned over the table to kiss him. "I love you."

"Love you, too. Now go on and get undressed. I'll be up in a minute." Draco slapped Harry gently on the bum as he left the room.

Draco sat back down at the kitchen table after Harry left the room. His own comment about having eight extra rooms had given him an idea. Why didn't he just ask Harry to move in with him? Sure, they hadn't been dating that long, but they spent enough time together to make it seem longer – which was as much a curse as it was a blessing. Draco knew he was difficult to live with, and it didn't matter who he was living with; he was just _himself._

He liked things the way they were in his house, and he wasn't often open to compromise – not that Harry would want to change anything, but he'd seen how Harry kept his bedroom, and it wasn't something Draco would be happy to deal with – even if it _was_ Harry. He also wasn't certain about having Harry around 24/7. Even though they worked on separate floors, they still saw each other often enough to not miss the company during the evenings. It didn't stop them from seeing each other anyway; he just didn't know if it would end up being too close for comfort.

Draco grimaced. _Listen to yourself, Draco. Your_ boyfriend _needs somewhere to live for a month and you're more concerned about_ yourself! That was it. He was _going_ to ask Harry to move in while he was between houses; it was the least he could do, really. _It might actually be nice, you twit. Besides, if you ever fight, there are eight extra rooms for him to sleep in._

Shaking his head ruefully, Draco turned out the lights and ran upstairs to tend to his aching and miserable boyfriend.

"What took you so long?" asked a naked Harry from the bed.

"I was fixing your problem," Draco said, pulling off his clothes and laying them on the chair.

"_You_ were fixing my problem? Did you Floo Ron and kick him?"

"No, I did not. That would have been fun, though. Shall I go now?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, thanks. So how'd you fix me?"

"Well, it was just an idea. If you don't want to, it's fine, but I was thinking that maybe you'd like to stay here until your loft, or new flat, or whatever is available?" Draco climbed into bed beside Harry and propped himself up on his elbow. "What do you think?"

Harry looked shocked. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, you dolt."

"Draco, that's… that's…"

"Brilliant?"

"Really generous of you," Harry said breathlessly.

"Oh, my sweet little Harry," Draco said, feeling a huge swell of pride in his chest. He leaned over and kissed his lover. "So you'll stay?"

"You're not worried that I'll get in your way? You know I'm not the tidiest of people."

_Yes, that's true._

"But I can cook."

_Also quite true._

"We'll find a way around the untidy bit. Even if I have to rub your nose in your discarded clothes and beat you with a newspaper," Draco said brightly.

Harry laughed out loud, his usual happy nature poking through his misery of the last few days.

"I'm going to take that as a yes."

Harry smiled shyly at him and chewed on his bottom lip, a slight blush staining his cheeks.

_God, he's adorable._

Harry leaned over to kiss him. "Thank you, Draco."

"Well, you _know_ I wasn't going to stop by for tea if you'd taken a room in the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry took his hand and kissed his fingers. "So, where's that massage you promised me?"

Draco snatched his hand back. "You ungrateful wretch."

"I said 'thank you'! And I'll say thanks for the massage in a much nicer way when you're finished," Harry said, licking his lips.

"Well, in that case…" Draco grinned.

There was also the benefit of Harry's body in his bed every night to look forward to – that alone was good enough to make up for his untidiness.


	10. Nerves

**Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.**

October and the impending wedding drew nearer, and though Harry had already told Draco that he would be more than willing to move in with him, he was still in two minds about actually doing it.

Living together meant that several things would have to change. Harry was not the type of person who enjoyed being dependent on other people to provide for him, nor did he like to intrude on others' privacy. Though he and Draco had discussed that they would both pay for groceries and anything else they needed, it was still Draco's house, Draco's bed and Draco's things. Harry consoled himself slightly that even if he didn't like sharing a house with Draco, he didn't have to stay there for long. Conflicting views were bound to come up between them, just like in any relationship, and Harry was ready to tackle them when the time came, if the time came.

What was really bothering him was that he'd have to say farewell to his best friend, the one constant in his life, sooner rather than later, and get ready to greet a new chapter with only a part of Ron left. The two had mended their friendship again on Harry's twenty-third birthday, very awkwardly, when Ron and Hermione arrived for dinner at Malfoy Manor (Draco's idea), causing Hermione to cry and Draco to roll his eyes, but it definitely removed one more stress from their lives and vastly improved their teamwork.

Harry knew that he was probably being a little bit selfish, but he couldn't help but worry that his "new" life would entail much more time by himself than he was used to. Though he supposed he was growing used to the idea, he knew it was going to be extremely difficult for him when Ron moved out permanently after the wedding.

Both Ron and Hermione were getting more and more excited about their plans, talking about their honeymoon and arguing over the guest list. ("You have to invite Percy!" Hermione had exclaimed upon looking at Ron's provisional list. "No fucking way!" Ron screamed back. "Do you honestly think that any of us have ever properly gotten over his treason to our family? No! Besides, Fred and George would hex him the moment he set foot in the place!") Harry personally felt that Ron was quite right, but chose not to openly defend him – Hermione was often rather hysterical when her plans were changed abruptly, no matter how slightly. They then found out towards the end of August that Molly Weasley had already owled Percy to tell him of the upcoming nuptials, and he replied saying that he was very sorry he couldn't make it, for he had a previous political engagement. He sent them a gift of very expensive bed linens (chosen by his personal assistant), which seemed to put both Ron and Hermione in a better mood.

A few weeks before the Big Day, Harry and Ron had arrived from work one day to find their flat upholstered in flowers, wedding dress material, colour swatches and invitation samples. This was followed nearly every day by something else required for the wedding party, not to mention hordes of women who were being fitted for their dresses by the designer, who had apparently taken up residence.

Then, one day in the beginning of September, Harry returned home from a particularly hard week of training and reporting to find his bed covered in drying parchment invitations, and decided that he'd had enough. After scribbling a quick note to Ron, telling him where he was going, Harry slipped out of the flat and down the stairwell and Apparated to Draco's front door to seek solace from the madhouse.

"Mmm, that feels good," Harry murmured.

He and Draco lay in the bath, glasses of their favourite Pinot Grigio resting on the outside rim of the tub in the bathroom, soft music playing, candles gently burning, while Draco gave him a long-promised and well-deserved massage. He groaned in pleasure as Draco kneaded and soothed the aching muscles of his neck and back with firm strokes of his fingers and palms.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Harry sighed thankfully fifteen minutes later when Draco stopped.

"You're just a lucky bloke, I suppose," said Draco, handing him his glass, charmed to stay cold even in the warmth of the room. He slipped his hands below the water and rested them lightly on Harry's belly, letting his fingers sweep gently over the skin.

Harry dropped his head back on Draco's shoulder, closing his eyes, allowing his body to fully relax.

Draco wrapped his arms closer around Harry and kissed his face softly, breathing in the light scent of the bubble bath on his skin.

"I could really use nights like this more often. It's amazing that I'm not even playing an enormous part in planning this wedding and already I feel completely saturated by it," Harry said in a tired voice.

"Don't you worry, sweets – a few more weeks and you can have me every night for a whole month," Draco said.

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Ye of little faith. You don't think I'll treat you well?"

Harry snorted. "Not _every_ night."

"Well, I suppose that's true. I expect to have at least one night a week of pampering."

"Yeah, you can have Sundays."

Draco chuckled and took a slug of wine. "Do you think we'll kill each other before the month is over?" he asked thoughtfully.

"I don't think about such things. It's not as though we'll be spending every living moment together; one of us is bound to have to work late a night or two a week, and I'm sure I'm going to be called out to a mission at some point – we're a little short-staffed lately, so no, I don't think we'll kill each other before I get my new flat."

"Well, we've only been together for five months; I'm just worried that we don't know enough about each other."

"We don't, but that's the fun part, isn't it? Getting to know everything, or mostly everything?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right. I'm sorry I brought it up."

"Don't be, I understand. I mean, what if you find out something you don't like and can't bear to deal with it?" Harry said matter-of-factly. "But don't concern yourself too much. We're only forced together for a month, and then we can continue proper relationship-building without the co-habitation, like normal people."

His tone, though light, had certain stiffness about it.

"I just want to avoid major conflict that could turn ugly," Draco said, trying to explain himself without making Harry feel like it was a chore for Draco to share his house.

"Why do you automatically think that we're going to encounter such great conflict? We get along alright, don't we?"

"Yes, we do, but I'm only looking for faults in the design."

Harry paused, his eyebrow raised, "'Faults in the design'? Who _says_ that?"

"I do. What are we supposed to do if something goes really, really wrong and we can't fix it? I would hate for us to have to suffer."

"Draco, this isn't one of your potions that you have to spend hours on looking for mistakes in the ingredient list. We're bound to fight occasionally. Hogwarts was a long time ago. I don't hate you, you don't hate me. We grew up, now get over it and at least pretend to be happy that we're playing house for a little while." Harry stood up and grabbed his towel before getting out of the bath. Draco's negativity was really getting to him.

"I didn't mean it like that, Harry."

"Didn't mean it like what, Draco? Like you're having doubts about us living together? You can tell me now, and I'll go and stay with Remus and Tonks if you'd prefer."

_Bugger!_

"Harry, I'm sorry. I'm just… worried that we're going to find something too big to handle and I'll – I'll…"

His last words were too quiet for Harry to hear. "Sorry? I missed that."

Draco raised bruised eyes to Harry. "I'll have to let you go."

"Why are you worrying about that now, you dolt? We haven't even _begun_ properly living together, and this is what's doing you in?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just worry too much; blame my mother. It's something I have to work on," Draco said, dropping his eyes and feeling heat rise in his face. _You're such an idiot, Draco._

"I'd say so. Now, come along, Mr. Malfoy, I've got something to take your mind off your worries."

"Have you?"

"Yes. It involves your ultimate undoing at the many talents of my tongue."

"Full of yourself, aren't you?"

"Marginally, but I can guarantee that I'll be full of you once you get out of the bath."

"Sounds exciting, Mr. Potter." Draco grinned at Harry and climbed out of the tub to display his body, hot and wet, his cock half-hard already.

Harry unfolded a towel and began to dry his lover off slowly, leaving his penis for last. Getting to his knees in front of Draco, Harry inhaled deeply and began to blow lightly on the wet flesh, drying it with his breath, smiling delightedly at the twitch he got in response.

"Hmm, I don't think this part of you is properly clean," Harry said, his fingertips drawing slow, teasing circles over Draco's groin.

"Please, be my guest and see if you can do a better job then," Draco replied, his voice mildly unsteady.

"Happily." Harry's hands slipped around Draco's back to cup his arse-cheeks, his lips pressing warm little kisses to Draco's navel, darting his tongue out for a taste.

A gravelly moan of pleasure escaped Draco as Harry's hot mouth came into contact with his swollen sex, and his hand moved to Harry's head, following the bobbing motion. Talented tongue indeed!

"Oh, fuck." Draco almost lost his balance when Harry sucked him all the way in, and he could feel the head of his cock at the back of Harry's throat, feel the muscles pulling him closer to the edge.

When Draco's knees began to shake, Harry released him with a popping noise, unwilling to let him come just yet.

"Bastard!" Draco growled through gritted teeth. He lunged at Harry, nearly sending him flying back into the tub. They both toppled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, hands reaching, both fighting for dominance. Draco, being taller, stretched out over a struggling Harry, pinning his arms on either side of his head.

"Serves you right," he snarled. But Harry smiled and relaxed into submission as Draco's lips claimed his, tongues dancing over and around each other, fingers caressing and preparing.

Draco Summoned lube from the bedroom and covered his aching cock with liberal amounts, before slipping some inside of Harry, kissing him as he squirmed in mild discomfort. Taking himself in hand, he pushed against Harry's entrance, moaning in delight as he breached the muscle.

"So good," Harry muttered, his legs tightening around his lover, angling his hips to receive the sweet burn of Draco's cock, gasping as he felt the head brush his prostate.

"Tell me how you want it, Harry," Draco said, pulling out of Harry up to the tip of his cock, dropping butterfly kisses along his jaw and chin.

Harry smiled, pulling his lower lip into his mouth, and releasing it, red and moist, a vision so enticing, it was all Draco could do not to attack his mouth any further. His green eyes sparkled, the dark flecks around his pupil particularly pronounced.

"Go slow."

Draco moaned, his fingers scrabbling to no avail for a hold on the tiles of the bathroom floor. All he wanted to do was plunge in with reckless abandon until he emptied his seed. Harry knew this and challenged him, and Draco couldn't resist. He pushed back in, burying himself deeply into Harry's core, feeling their bodies meld together as if they were whole.

Harry reached up and pulled Draco's head down, bringing their lips together, as Draco continued his slow, deliberate movements, pushing them both to the point of the ultimate pleasure.

Unable to refrain from more stimulation, Harry began to stroke himself between their bellies, and his moans caused Draco to forget that he was supposed to be slowly torturing his lover.

"You're such a tease," Draco snapped. Clenching his buttocks, he picked up speed, driving in and out with such force that he pushed Harry's body away from him. Balancing on one arm, he gripped Harry's waist, holding him down as best he could. Harry clung to him, fingernails scratching down Draco's back, his breathing hitching with each thrust. He lifted his hips higher off the floor, moaning louder still when Draco placed his hand over Harry's hips, pulling him to completion. Crying out with relief, Draco delivered his last thrust and collapsed against his partner.

"Seems like our first bath was in vain, doesn't it?" Draco said several minutes later.

They were still lying on the damp tiles, the fruit of Harry's orgasm between them, warm and sticky.

"Always time for another," Harry replied, his arm over his eyes.

"I'm exhausted. Why don't you give me a bath this time?"

"I would, but my body doesn't appear to be co-operating with what my mind is telling it."

"We can't stay here forever, Harry. Maybe we should, I dunno, roll in?"

Harry snorted with laughter. "My wand is around here somewhere, I can move you if you move me."

"We're arseholes, you know that, right?"

"I think 'lazy' is the more appropriate term." Harry groaned and sat up, reaching quickly for a washcloth to start cleaning up their mess.

Draco watched him through half-closed eyes, grinning goofily.

"Don't think I'm going to sit here all night and give you a sponge bath; we still have to crawl our way to bed."

"No, I was right, 'arseholes' is what we are," Draco said, pushing himself to sit up. "Oh, blimey, I'm tired."

After finally cleaning themselves up properly, the two men crawled into bed and curled naturally into each other's bodies.

"You know, for two people who hated each other's guts as kids, we certainly fit quite well together," Harry commented. "I don't know what you're so worried about."

"Oh, Potter, you know I could never have been with anyone who didn't challenge me beyond even my own expectations. You fit that bill better than anyone I've ever met."

"You know, you were actually really nice to me the first time we met, but then you brought on that bullshit about being pureblood, and I got scared that I'd never fit in at Hogwarts, my only refuge from my mother's family."

"Well, you know who to blame for the 'pureblood bullshit'; it's just what I was taught. Then, along the way, it seemed to matter less and less in the world, and I wondered who made it so important. Then, after everything that happened with Voldemort, Father managed to be cleared of all his charges, getting off with an enormous fine and under the condition that he remain under surveillance for fifteen years. Malfoy Manor was far too public. Even though it's warded, people can still find ways to infiltrate, so we moved to France. He still believes that everyone who isn't him is beneath him, though, including me."

"I'm bloody glad that you didn't turn out to be him. I really thought you were going to," Harry said, stroking his lover's arm where a Dark Mark could have been burned. He felt Draco shudder and stopped, moving his hand instead to caress his hair.

"I still get scared sometimes that there's someone else out there, chomping at the bit to carry on Voldemort's work."

"Hello? Auror," Harry said, trying to reassure him that at least in that department, things were under control.

"That's what scares me, Harry. You're still the Boy Who Lived; there will always be people there to persecute you for giving others the chance to live."

In the silence, Harry could feel Draco's rapidly beating heart and, so slight he almost missed it, a shiver.

In that moment, Harry vowed to himself that, no matter what, he'd never allow anything bad to befall his Slytherin prince.


End file.
